


Desert Bloom

by sarai377



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Sharing a Bed, ValiDAD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarai377/pseuds/sarai377
Summary: Third-year business student Robin brings his best friend home for spring break, to prove to his loving parents that he’s doing fine at school. Chrom is on board with the deception, and despite having a secret crush on his omega roommate, he’s willing to do whatever Robin wants. But when Robin forgets his omega-suppressants at school, things start to fall apart.Fake Dating (with bed sharing), Friends to lovers, Secret pining (one-sided), Modern AU, A/B/O dynamics





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Robin’s phone buzzes, destroying his concentration on the involved formula he’d been dissecting. He scowls, and throws his pen at the cell. The pen misses and skitters across the table.

Chrom catches it before it falls to the floor. “What's up?” he asks, frowning.

Robin sighs, and grabs the phone as it vibrates again. “My mom,” he says.

“Did you get in a fight?” Chrom slides the pen back, eyes falling to where Robin is drumming his fingers on the table.

“No, it’s not that...” Robin closes his hand into a fist. “She keeps asking me to come home for spring break.”

“Why don't you want to go home?”

“It's… complicated.”

Chrom frowns, and deliberately closes the book in front of him.

Robin resists the urge to get up and start pacing, instead drawing in a deep, calming breath.

Chrom's alpha is showing, subtly, wanting to protect Robin. He's done so good over the years at respecting Robin's boundaries, at not being overbearing or too alpha, but seeing his roommate in distress makes him distressed as well. He knows Robin is omega, something not many of Robin's classmates know. Robin’s made a place for himself on campus as a beta, taken daily suppressants to mask his scent and keep his body from going into heat. It’s just… easier this way.

Not that the college has anything against omegas. Ylisse University is open to all secondary genders, going so far as to provide medical assistance for heats and ruts. That was partly why his parents had agreed to send him across the border into Ylisse for college.

But Robin would rather his secondary designation not impact his studies at all. Letting everyone assume he was beta was just… easier. But Chrom, his best friend, deserved to know the truth.

He puts his hands out, open, on the table. “Please, Chrom, it's fine.” He sets the phone down, the message blinking up at him.

_< Hope everything's fine, Robbie. Your father and I miss you dearly. Please tell me you're coming home next week! I want to see my baby. XOXO.>_

Robin drops his chin onto his folded hands. “She misses me. I just don't want to go home for a whole week.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Robin glances around their section of the library, but it is mostly empty. Just a student wearing earphones in the corner - when she walked by earlier, Robin could _hear_ the screaming metal music. He motions Chrom close, leaning their heads together over their books. “They want to know their only child is being looked after.”

Chrom's mouth parts, and his eyebrows come down. “They don't expect you to date someone, do they?”

Robin sighs. “Well, Mom asks me _every_ time if I'm ready to settle down and have kids yet.” He says the last at a whisper. “They mean well.”

“Of course they do,” Chrom says, and stops short of patting Robin’s hand, tracing the deckled edges of his history book instead. “They're great parents.”

Robin smiles dimly, aware that Chrom doesn’t have parents anymore, and that this is a subject he tries hard to avoid. “Yeah, it's just, they'll worry about me if I tell them I haven't, you know… gone into heat in three years.”

Chrom twists his mouth. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you want to come home with me,” Robin says. He sits back and picks up his pen.

Across from him, Chrom goes still. “Is that…?”

“It was a joke,” Robin says, but squints at Chrom. “Wait. Do you _want_ to?” His heart leaps to his throat.

“Yeah… what if we tell them we're dating?” Chrom rushes ahead, keeping his voice low. “It might get them to lay off, right?”

Robin chews on his pen. It could work. Chrom has been his best friend since their horrible first-semester Chemistry class. Chrom knows almost everything about Robin, and Robin knows everything there is to know about Chrom: alpha, two sisters, raised by his elder sister after their parents’ sudden death when Chrom was five. Robin’s mother won't care about this, but Chrom is well-off, and attractive. He's kind to everyone, and the only complaint Robin's ever heard is that Chrom can be sometimes standoffish. But Robin's never experienced that from Chrom.

“What about Emm?” he hedges. “Won't she miss you?”

Chrom grins. “I can visit her the weekend after. What do you say?” He’s got his phone in hand, ready to come to his best friend's aid, but waits on Robin’s answer.

Robin is touched by the offer. He makes a point of arranging his notebooks so they sit flush with the edge of the table. Chrom would do this for him, would pretend to be his boyfriend, to give Robin the space he wants with his parents. “I'd like that,” he finally says, trying not to seem too eager.

“Great, let me tell Emm!” Chrom immediately starts texting.

Robin lifts his own phone, which feels heavier than it did before. _< Mom - I'm coming home on Saturday, and I'm bringing a friend. Looking forward to seeing you too.>_

She starts texting back immediately, as if she's been waiting with the phone in hand. _< A FRIEND?> _And then, _< Who is it?>_

Robin sighs, a strange discomfort in his stomach at the thought of lying to his Mom, who only wants what she thinks is best for him. _< It's Chrom. He's my boyfriend.>_

The ellipses appear, and then disappear. Robin chuckles as he imagines her reaction. He can practically see her running for his father. After a few seconds, she responds, _< Your father and I cannot wait to see him in person again.>_

In spite of himself, Robin smiles. His parents met his roommate right before his first term, when his mom had needed to reassure herself that his living quarters were acceptable. _< Take it easy on him, will you?>_

_< I'm sorry, you know I just want you to be happy.>_

He sighs. In that at least, his parents have been abundantly clear. His childhood was happy, for the most part, even with such an overbearing alpha mother. _< I know. See you next week.>_

_< Love you, Robbie! <3 >_

“All set,” Chrom says, dropping his phone to the table with a clatter. The girl with the too-loud headphones doesn’t even look up at the sound. “Hey, if you want, you can come home with me, after. Emm said Lissa’s been asking after you.”

Robin closes the messaging app, a bit distracted. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” He’s seen Chrom’s family often over the years, much more than Chrom’s seen his parents. Plegia is far away, and Emmeryn lives in the city.

“Why don’t we take my car?” Chrom offers. Usually Robin would just take the bus home, but the offer is too good to pass up. Having to share cramped seating with people who are nowhere near as meticulous as Chrom doesn’t sound like his idea of a fun afternoon.

“That would be great, thanks!” He smiles at Chrom, and Chrom grins back.

“Alright, now I really have no clue what we are studying for history…” Chrom slaps the closed book before him. Robin slips around the other side of the desk to assist, and as he does so, he realizes - he’s actually looking forward to going home.

~*~

Chrom’s car smells like him, subtle but clinging to every surface. It’s stronger than in the dorm room.

Robin never asked Chrom to do anything about his scent, but after opening up about his secondary gender during their second semester, Robin found the musky alpha scent masked by a cancellation spray. Chrom is regular with it, every couple of weeks, keeping it from overpowering the room. Even his soap is specifically designed to keep his scent under control. It lingers in his car, surprisingly strong, but not unwelcome.

Chrom also takes himself to one of the special rooms in the medical center when it’s time for his rut. Robin misses him for a day or two, taking meticulous notes to share when he returns. He smells of strong alpha for a few days after, but never of another omega.

Robin leans back in the seat and lets the scent surround him, a comfort for the long drive home. It’s almost five hours, with stops.

They swap driving every hour or so. It’s a pleasant drive - Chrom has an eclectic collection of tunes, and they switch from rap to metal, and then to a capella. With the windows cracked open to the breeze, and the bright sunlight warming his bones, somewhere around the third hour, Robin dozes off. It’s only when Chrom pulls into the driveway that Robin jerks awake. He swipes at his mouth, a bit of drool gathered in the corner.

“You should have woken me,” Robin says, but Chrom only shrugs with a smile.

The comforting scent of Plegia wafts through the windows, welcoming him home.

The house is set back from the road, a long walkway leading up to the front door. Little reflets and hardy desert plants grow by the door and along the path, pops of color against the monotone gray-brown sand. His father’s hobby, planting in the dry Plegian soil.

The front door opens as soon as Chrom removes the key, before Robin has time to really prepare himself for the homecoming.

His mom rushes out the door, down the walk. Robin unbuckles and opens the car door, and she pulls him up and into a hug. He’s enveloped in her warm alpha scent, in the comfort he always finds in her arms. She’s a fraction of an inch shorter than him, but her presence always feels larger.

When she nuzzles her face into his hair and draws in a breath, Robin fights the urge to push her away. She’s just looking out for him - it’s something she’s always done, since he presented as omega. Robin wonders what she smells, and if it’s satisfactory. He knows, from her comments on previous visits, that he always smells a little bit like Chrom, a side-effect of sharing the same small room for months on end.

The hug only lasts a second too long, and then she releases him and steps back. She’s smiling, and her golden eyes are bright, warm. Robin smiles back.

“Come on, Kat, give him some space,” Robin’s father calls.

Robin’s mom sniffs. She squeezes Robin’s arm and then goes to help Chrom with the suitcases at the trunk. Robin wants to follow, a bit nervous about his mother’s reaction to his “boyfriend”, but is pulled into a hug by his father. Validar is tall and thin, where Katarina is a bit plump, but he’s just as happy to see Robin. He smells fresh, neutral, and always a bit like Robin’s mother. His spectacles flash in the sunlight as they both turn to watch Katarina.

She offers Chrom a hand with a low comment. Chrom takes it, and Robin has the impression of wolves sizing each other up, hackles raised, despite their friendly tones.

“Is school going alright?” Validar removes his glasses to clean them with a corner of his shirt. There are dark circles under his eyes, but his smile is genuine.

“Yeah, we’re studying global macroeconomy this semester.” Robin watches as Katarina takes Robin’s suitcase from Chrom’s hands. She’s all smiles, but there’s a bit too much _teeth_ in the expression.

“We’d better rescue him,” Validar says with a long-suffering but affectionate tone. As one, Validar and Robin go to draw her away from Chrom, before she bites him. She probably wouldn’t… but Robin doesn’t want her to scare Chrom off and ruin their vacation. He’s been almost looking forward to this.

Katarina looks at Robin and sweeps in to pinch his cheek.

“Mom!” he squawks, batting her hand aside, face burning.

She doesn’t look the least bit repentant. “Why don’t you both come inside! I’ve got some iced tea ready for you, just the way you like it.” She loops her arm through Robin’s and draws him toward the house. He glances back at Chrom apologetically, but his friend waves it off. Robin’s father offers Chrom his hand, and they shake, but that’s all Robin sees before he’s ushered inside.

“You look too thin,” his mom croons, setting the suitcase by the front door and guiding him up the stairs into the living room. The large windows show the late-afternoon sky. “Are they feeding you enough? Are you sleeping well?”

“The food’s fine, Mom. Please don’t hover…” Robin sinks onto the couch, leaving space for Chrom on the other side of him. Katarina hands him a glass of iced tea, and then sits on his other side, studying him with hands folded in her lap.

“I’m sorry, Robbie, I just… I miss you.”

“I know,” Robin says, and rests his head against her shoulder for the briefest of moments. She hums with contentment, leaning her head against his. For a moment Robin allows himself to just _exist_ in the comfort of home.

The front door opens and closes, and Chrom and Validar come up the stairs. Robin sits up and takes a drink of the cold tea, laced with peach and lemon and loaded with sugar, just the way he likes it. He traces patterns in the condensation on the glass, fingertips chilled.

Katarina goes to pour more glasses, and Robin motions to Chrom to sit beside him. He does, accepting the drink with a quiet, _thank you_. Robin bounces his knee for a minute, then slides his leg against Chrom’s, reminding both of them, wordlessly, of the things they discussed on the way up - their plan to convince Robin’s parents that they are in fact dating.

Chrom relaxes into the couch, and deliberately puts his arm along the back of it, brushing his bare arm against Robin’s hair. Robin leans in against his warm body, his face warming at the closeness and the fact that, like this, he can _smell_ Chrom. It’s a pleasant scent, still partially nullified by the soap from the morning’s shower.

Katarina narrows her eyes and purses her lips from her seat beside Robin, but doesn’t comment.

“This is a lovely home,” Chrom says, and takes a sip. His eyes scan the hearth, the family photos - the three of them, smiling out from various vacation destinations.

When Robin was seven they went to the seashore. Robin got horribly sunburned, and he looks a bit like a peeling lobster in the photo, but he’s grinning out from beneath an oversized straw hat, and his parents are smiling, too. Beside that stands the photo from their ill-fated Feroxi ski-trip, when his father broke his leg - the three of them stand, Robin and Katarina on either side of Validar, who is showing off his cast with a flourish and a grin.

Robin’s always been happy with his parents, and it reminds him that Chrom never had a chance to know his own.

“So, tell us a little about yourself,” Katarina says, leaning close. “What makes you think you’re good enough-- ouch!” Robin nudges her ankle with his foot, and she sits back, miffed. “ _Fine_ , Robbie. I heard you live in the city?”

“I live with my two sisters, in Ylisstol,” Chrom says, choosing not to answer her first question. He glances at Robin, the ghost of a smile on his face, and Robin’s heart lightens to see it there. “Emmeryn’s practically running the city now.”

“Emmeryn Shepherd?” Validar asks, looking impressed. He’s taken one of the armchairs, one leg crossed over the other. “She has been a proponent of Ylisse-Plegian relations. Quite a good head on her shoulders.”

Katarina doesn’t look pleased at this, although Robin can’t figure out why.

Chrom nods. “That’s her.”

As Chrom and Validar discuss the latest proposal between the two countries, Robin rests his glass on his knee and leans his head back against Chrom’s arm. Chrom twitches a fraction, and then slides his fingertips to Robin’s shoulder. Warmth curls down his bicep and up his neck, just from the faint contact. When they’d spoken of the need for physical closeness on this trip, it hadn’t been so… intimate. It almost feels like they are crossing a line.

Katarina glances at Chrom’s hand like it’s a spider, and Robin thinks for a moment she’s going to sweep it off. But she lets it stay.

Chrom’s voice washes over Robin, vibrating gently against his shoulder. Robin hadn’t expected his mom to act so alpha toward Chrom, or really, toward _any_ alpha he brought home. But it makes sense. This _is_ the first boyfriend or girlfriend he’s mentioned to her. And she’s had barely a week to get used to the idea. Of course their first serious meeting would be tense. Robin decides he’ll need to give her some one-on-one time, to let her know he still loves her, and he’s happy with Chrom.

After a few minutes of polite chatter, Validar cuts in, “I’m sure you two are tired from the long drive. Why don’t you show him your room, Robin?”

Robin freezes. His room… This is unexpected. They’re _letting_ them stay in the same room… the same bed… together?

“Okay,” he says, and hopes he doesn’t sound as tense as he feels. The suppressants help with his scent, disguising his emotions, but if Katarina gets too close, she’ll be able to smell the surprise and discomfort on him.

He stands, and sets his glass on the coaster Katarina slides across the coffee table. She’s watching him with a strangely wistful expression.

“What time is dinner?” Robin asks, trying for calm.

“About an hour,” Katarina says. “I could use your help, if you aren’t too tired.”

“Sure, I’d love to,” Robin says, grateful for her offer. The closest thing to “cooking” he’s done since returning to school is to microwave ramen or leftovers, and he’s missed it.

Chrom collects both suitcases, and Robin leads him down the hall. His bedroom is the third door on the left. He pushes inside, staring at the full-size bed with a mounting sense of panic. Chrom closes the door, sets the suitcases nearby, and then says, in a low voice, “I can sleep on the floor.”

Robin sinks onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands, one knee bouncing. “I didn’t expect this,” he mutters.

“Are you alright?” Chrom approaches when Robin doesn’t instantly look up, and sits gingerly beside him, not touching him at all.

“Yeah,” Robin finally says. “It’s fine. We can share the bed. We’ll be wearing clothes.”

“Is it really fine, Robin?” Chrom’s blue eyes are concerned. “Just say the word, and I’ll ask to sleep in the guest bedroom.”

Robin is insanely grateful, in that moment, for Chrom. He leans in and presses their shoulders together. “Thank you. But… I really am okay with this. If - if you are, that is?” Robin looks up sharply, suddenly aware that the hesitation might be Chrom’s, rather than just concern for his own boundaries.

“I’m fine with it.” Chrom seems tense, rubbing his hand on his thigh. “Anyway, it might be a bit weird to sleep where I can’t hear your snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” Robin punches his bicep, and they grin at each other.

All the tension seeps out of Chrom’s body, and he flops back onto the bed. He squints at the ceiling. “Are those… glow in the dark stars?”

Robin sinks back on his elbows beside Chrom, careful not to touch him. The bed shifts beneath them. “Yeah, Dad helped me put them up when I was eleven. We mapped out the night sky on the night I was born.”

“That’s real cheesy,” Chrom says, but sounds pleased.

Robin turns on his side and looks at Chrom. “Speaking of cheesy… didn’t Emmeryn send you a stuffed horse during your first week?”

Chrom covers his face. “A fact you’ve never let me live down.”

Robin pokes Chrom in the side, and laughs. “Don’t make fun of my stars, okay? I’ve got ammo.”

“I won’t make fun of your stars,” Chrom agrees, and smiles up at him, and it’s suddenly almost surreal, seeing Chrom lying on his bed, the purple and gold geometric bedspread beneath his head.

They are going to share the bed.

The alpha narrows his eyes, and shifts. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Robin sits up, all too aware that he wanted to reach out and touch Chrom’s hair where it fell against the bedspread. He stands, and wrestles their suitcases beside the dresser, just to have something to do.

So what if they have to share his bed for a week? It’ll be fine. And it’ll make his mom stop worrying about him so much.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, and means it.

~*~

Chrom helps set the table, and Robin helps prepare the three-course dinner production Katarina decided to put on. Salad first, then the main course: all manner of vegetables, prepared Plegian style, spiced or seasoned, roasted and sauced. Katarina sets him to manning the pots at the stove, maneuvering around him to get everything done at the same time. There’s enough food to feed half the student population at YU, but Chrom makes a valiant effort to eat everything put in front of him. Finally, there’s dessert, a whipped mousse with a chocolate-berry sauce.

“And tomorrow morning, I’m preparing your favorite!” Katarina declares when they’re done, squeezing Robin’s hand.

“The famous breakfast casserole?” Chrom seems genuinely eager, at this. He’s not playing, not at any of this - Chrom really wants to impress Robin’s parents.

Robin smiles, even as his heart beats a bit frantically at the thought of spending the whole night with Chrom. “The very same! I wonder if it’s as good as I remember…”

Katarina’s mouth twitches, and her eyes light up. “Is that a challenge?”

Validar, who has been collecting the dinner plates, leans into her shoulder. “Love, you’re being overbearing again…”

She waves his warning off, and takes Robin’s hand, where it was absently plucking at the tablecloth. “Robbie, are you alright? You seem a bit twitchy.”

“Oh,” Robin says, and reaches for his own plate. He does feel a bit antsy, now that she’s mentioned it. “I’m fine. We stopped for coffee on the way up.” He scoops up Chrom’s empty plate and utensils with a clatter.

“It was a delicious dinner, Mrs. Levin,” Chrom says. “Thank you.”

She waves off his praise, but smiles, possibly the warmest expression she’s made toward Chrom all night.

Robin takes the dishes into the kitchen and loads the dishwasher, while his father fills the sink with sudsy water. Is it just nerves, at spending the night together? Maybe he should ask Chrom to sleep in another room… But he doesn’t want Chrom or his mother to worry about him… He’s absorbed in his own thoughts, and it’s only after he’s closed the dishwasher that he realizes he and his father are alone in the kitchen. Usually his mom comes in and playfully argues with Validar over who will take care of the dishes. But she’s not there, and neither is Chrom.

Robin goes to the doorway. He pauses when he hears Katarina’s voice, unexpectedly low in tone.

“...find you, and hurt you, if you break my baby’s heart. Am I clear?”

Chrom’s throat bobs, but he meets Katarina’s no-doubt glare with a steady expression. Neither of them have noticed Robin. “I don’t ever want to hurt him. He’s my best friend, and I care for him a great deal. More than he knows.”

This is almost off-script, and Robin pauses for a moment, trying to understand.

Katarina shakes her head. “You’ll forgive me if I tell you, I don’t trust you yet. You don’t share scents, you’re a stranger in my son’s bed--”

“Mom! What did I tell you about being nice?” Robin stalks forward, piqued by her threats. He crosses to Chrom’s side, and puts a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Chrom’s look. The dining room smells of alpha, the air charged and bright, and for a moment Robin’s stomach twists against it. This isn’t how the night - the vacation - was supposed to go.

Katarina stands, trying for apologetic. “A mother’s got to do what she has to, dear.”

“Don’t _dear_ me, Mom. I don’t want you two to fight!”

Despite Robin’s warning hand on his shoulder, Chrom rises. He steps close to Robin and touches his back, gently, reassuringly. “It’s alright, Robin. We were just talking, and making some things clear.” There’s anger crisp in his blue eyes, but it’s not meant for Robin.

Despite himself, despite what he wants, Robin finds himself relaxing into that touch. Chrom probably isn’t doing it intentionally, reacting to his mood. Robin wants to step away, frustrated with his own omega instincts, but that would raise more questions. He balls his hands into fists and stares at the tablecloth. It might be his imagination, but he thinks he might smell of faint unhappiness.

Validar comes to the doorway, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “What’s going on?”

For the first time, Robin is starting to wonder if he made the right decision, bringing Chrom with him. He’d thought it would make his mother happy, but what does _he_ want?

“Come on,” he says to Chrom. “I need a minute.” Robin grabs Chrom’s hand, turns, and draws him along behind, retreating to his room. He pulls Chrom into the room and closes the door, then rests his forehead against the smooth wood. He doesn’t let go of Chrom’s hand, not until Chrom touches his wrist.

“Sorry,” Robin mumbles, releasing him, aware that he was gripping him too tight.

“Don’t apologize,” Chrom says. “Can I… what can I do to help? I didn’t mean to argue with her.”

“It’s not you I’m upset with,” Robin says, and turns. Chrom is hovering close, concerned, and he’s got that alpha-look about him. It always reminds Robin of a wolf, with Chrom, a slight perking of the ears, the raising of hackles, the way Chrom stands with his legs slightly wider than normal, as if ready to leap. “I just…” Robin sighs, and sags back against the door.

Chrom reaches out, giving Robin plenty of time to stop him, to turn away. He doesn’t, though, curious to see what he will do - and, if he’s being honest, wanting more of the comfort that Chrom offered in the dining room.

He squeezes Robin’s shoulders, and breathes in deep. Robin finds himself doing the same, slowing his breath, and when they finally exhale together, he feels a bit better, a bit more in control.

“Thanks,” Robin says, with a little smile.

Chrom nods, and steps away.

“Did you tell her that we, uh… we aren’t…”

“Mates? No, she didn’t give me the chance.” Chrom rubs at the back of his head. “I tried to tell her it’s a fairly new thing, that we’re taking it slow… and she took that to mean I wasn’t all that interested in you.”

“Oh.” Robin doesn’t know how to feel about that. “I’ll talk to her. I should have told her ahead of time, but… you know. Mothers…” And then he winces, glancing at Chrom.

“I get it,” Chrom says, with a shrug and a small smile. “She loves you, that much is clear.” He glances at his smartwatch. “Do you want to go back out there?”

Robin exhales again. “No… but we should. It’ll be more awkward if I don’t. But… before we do. You said something, back there…”

To his surprise, Chrom flushes. “You overheard that?”

“What did you mean, more than I know?”

“I was… improvising,” Chrom says, and makes a big deal of checking his watch again. “Was it okay?”

“You sounded pretty sincere,” Robin says, twisting his fingers together.

Finally Chrom looks up. “I do care for you. You’re a good friend. It’s why I’m doing this, helping you out… and also, to meet the people who raised you.”

“Well, you’ve certainly met them,” Robin says. He turns back to the door, surprised by this facet of his best friend. He’d thought he’d seen all of Chrom’s layers, but this one is something new. And he’s not sure how he feels about it.

~*~

Chrom follows Robin from his room, watching his friend closely, but he seems to have accepted his answer.

When they return to the kitchen, Katarina apologizes profusely to Robin. She offers Chrom a grudging apology, which Validar probably forced her into, but he accepts it regardless.

They settle into the living room with a board game. This surprises Chrom - he’d been expecting another interrogation. After seeing Robin’s room, though, the model trains and airplanes, the comic-book figurines on the shelves… it fits. His friend was raised on this, on family game nights, on long dinner productions, on the comforts of parents stable in their own relationship with each other and the outside world. Being raised by his sister was different - they’re close, too, but in different ways. Chrom knows rather too much of his own upbringing, from when Emm would confide in him about her own fears.

Robin meticulously counts out money, and Validar sorts out the cards and pieces. Katarina leaves the room for a minute, and when she returns with a bottle of wine and snacks, the tinkle of soft piano music follows her. Chrom doesn’t care for red wine, but this one has a warm, mild taste.

It’s a pleasurable evening. He and Robin sit on the couch, legs occasionally brushing as they lean in for the dice. As the sun sets, a chill lingers in the house. Beside him, Robin shivers, slipping unconsciously closer to him as if seeking out warmth. Katarina turns on the gas fire in the fireplace, and warmth sinks gradually into Chrom’s side, facing the flames.

Chrom watches Robin’s eyes light up as he overtakes all of them, collecting too much money and avoiding the pitfalls. He’s in his element, truly relaxed, as Chrom has only rarely seen in their dorm room. Despite his frustration with his mother, Robin is home.

Chrom already knows he’ll miss this when they return to school.

When Robin wins, Chrom isn’t at all upset - it’s clear he’s played this many times. Robin leans close to Chrom, offering him advice, a hand distractingly on his knee. He smiles happily at the rest as they all compete for runner-up. Validar comes in second, to Chrom’s surprise, and Katarina takes last place. She’s not too upset about it, although she does nudge her mate in the ribs, claiming he took advantage of her with a bad deal.

Robin’s glass is empty when they’re done, and Katarina looks at him fondly. “Well, I think it’s time for us old folks to head to bed,” she says, and exaggeratedly yawns to prove her point. “Good night, Robbie.” She squeezes his hand, and Validar joins her in heading down the hall. They leave Chrom and Robin alone in the darkened living room. The piano music is still playing, although after a few minutes it’s partially obscured by the sound of nightly news on the TV, muffled through the walls. It’s quiet, and still, a sort of expectant waiting falling between them.

“Are you ready?” Chrom asks, uncertain what he should do now that Robin’s parents are gone.

Robin makes a noise of contentment, rolling his eyes toward him, but makes no attempt to move. Their legs are touching and Robin doesn’t move away. Chrom watches him, and then realizes he might be staring, and glances at the board game box, neatly packed away. “Should I carry you?”

Robin laughs, soft and happy. “That won’t be necessary.” Still, he makes no move to rise. He’s so relaxed, and Chrom wants to sink in against him.

“Do you… want to ‘fall asleep’ out here?” Chrom finally asks, and he thinks he’s hidden his own disappointment well enough.

“No, we should go… here, help me.” Robin raises a hand, and Chrom takes it. He remembers how Robin gripped his hand so tight, earlier, dragging him away from the dining room. He draws Robin up with a little grunt, jokes about how his mother shouldn’t feed him too much food.

He lets go, and Robin goes to the fireplace. The flames make a soft whump as they disappear, casting the room in shadows and chill.

Chrom catches himself wanting to slip a hand against Robin’s back as they walk down the dim hall together, but resists that temptation. He can’t just come out and tell Robin how big a crush he’s got on him, but he thinks about it. This hadn’t seemed such a trial when they’d first thought of this little deception, but now it’s hard for Chrom to find the lines, to remind himself of how he should act when Katarina or Validar aren’t looking.

They change and brush their teeth in Robin’s bathroom, separately. When Chrom returns, Robin’s already slipped into bed, facing the far wall, away from the door. There’s a small night light in the corner of the room that comes on when Chrom turns off the overhead light. The stars glow from above them, spread across the entire ceiling. Their dorm room is usually completely dark, except for the blinking lights of charging electronics.

Chrom slides between the sheets and settles his head onto the pillow.

It smells of Robin.

Chrom breathes in, carefully, slowly, measured. It reminds Chrom of the dryer sheets Robin uses at school - a soft, clean scent, but inescapably Robin. It also reminds him of that weird liquid he uses at night to clean his face, faintly rose-scented. He hears Robin sigh, close enough to touch. It’s intoxicating, like a feast to a starving man. How easy would it be to reach over and take Robin into his arms? His fingers twitch.

Too easy.

Chrom turns so his back is toward Robin, staying as far to the edge of the bed as he can. He listens to the ticking of the clock, to Robin’s breathing, the murmur of the television in the other room. The pillowcase is soft and gradually warms against his skin.

The scent of Robin surrounds him, and ushers him into sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

In the darkness of his childhood bedroom, Robin listens to Chrom’s breathing. It’s the usual sound, something he’s fallen asleep to a thousand times back in their dorm room, but he’s more aware of it now.

After a few minutes, he turns back. He moves slowly so as not to wake Chrom. The alpha is lying on his side, facing away from Robin. He’s larger than Robin remembered, his shoulders broad, taking up rather too much space. But it’s not really his body that is filling the room - it’s his scent.

There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s not particularly strong, not overtly alpha. Normally Robin likes the way their dorm room smells. But Chrom is in his bed - in his _bed_ \- and even though he’d said he was okay with it, it’s strange.

The wine and the pleasurable evening set him at ease earlier, but now, lying here with Chrom’s scent and his body lingering so close, he’s wide awake. Robin scoots up on one elbow. The night light in the corner grants Robin a glimpse of that strong jaw, soft eyelashes pressed to soft cheek. Chrom snores, loud, and then shifts, his shoulder rolling toward Robin, just a bit. Robin drops to the pillow, not wanting to be caught staring, but Chrom goes still again.

Across the hall, the television goes silent. The house holds its breath, and Robin does too, listening to Chrom.

Robin rolls onto his back and stares up at the faintly glowing stars on the ceiling. He traces the familiar constellations past his fingers, as he used to long ago - the Dragon, the Warrior-king, part of the Bow and Arrow, curving in the corner near the closet. He tries to match his breathing to Chrom’s.

He closes his eyes and lets the softness of the bed, the warmth of the blankets, wrap around him. He's safe at home, and things are going well.

But just as he’s about to drift off into sleep, Chrom rolls toward him - and throws a leg and an arm over Robin.

Robin’s eyes fly open. Chrom is breathing _on his neck_ and Robin doesn’t move a muscle. The alpha’s body is unexpectedly heavy. His knee has rucked up one pant leg.

Should Robin move? Should he push Chrom off, wake him up? Does he want to?

Chrom _nuzzles_ into his neck, and Robin shivers. Robin’s arm is caught between, but the long line of Chrom’s body presses close. The bed, which was cozy just moments ago, is now steamingly hot. Robin can’t get enough air.

They are cuddling, there’s no other word for it. And after a few tense moments, Robin finds himself relaxing. Perhaps it’s the tension of the day, or his silent desire, well-hidden, for alpha comfort… but Robin likes this. He raises one hand and presses it to Chrom’s wrist, on his chest. It’s not uncomfortable, just unexpected.

He definitely can’t sleep like this, though, every synapse and cell in his body awake. He’s never cuddled with anyone like this. He never thought it would bring this heightened awareness of his body. He turns his cheek against Chrom’s forehead - his hair is softer than he imagined - and breathes a whiff of gentle alpha scent.

Bright green foliage, a cool breeze, and the warm glow of sunlight filtering through trees he’s never seen - his body produces images and sensations off the scent.

It shouldn’t smell _that_ good.

Robin blinks up at the stars, worry gnawing up his spine. Things are coming together in his mind, small moments - his nap in the car earlier, despite the coffee… his mom commenting on his twitchiness… Chrom’s alpha scent, almost new and foreign despite living with him for years…

“No,” Robin whispers, and slips out from beneath Chrom’s body. _No, no, no -_ in the hustle of packing that morning, he’d forgotten to take his pill.

Chrom curls onto his pillow, slipping into the space Robin vacated, but doesn't wake.

Robin covers his mouth until his breathing steadies.

He’s remembering the university doctor who prescribed him the suppressants. “They will reduce your emotional responses, and keep you from having your heat, but your body wants to do these things. You might feel a bit under the weather, or feel like something’s ‘wrong’, from time to time.” She had smiled kindly at him, and patted his hand where he clutched the pill bottle tight. “It’s just your body reminding you of its natural inclination. Let me know if you experience anything out of the ordinary, and we can try a different variety.” His daily suppressants had never given him adverse side-effects.

Until now.

This isn’t the worst of reactions, though - just a bit of agitation, a bit of clinginess… He moves to his suitcase, pulling out the mini travel bag where he keeps his Excedrin and his comb. He shifts around the little bottles of toner and lotion, digging to the bottom.

The pills aren’t in there.

Panic sizzles in his veins. _I packed them, I know I packed them…_ He goes through his laptop case, searching every pocket and compartment. He pulls out all his clothes, dumping them into a messy pile on the rug. He goes back through the small travel bag again, and then a third time, hoping that in the dim light, the bottle is just hiding in the corners.

His eyes blur, and he drops his head against the side of the dresser with a heavy thump. He can’t quite catch his breath, and now his eyes are stinging, and he’s not going to cry, it will be alright--

“Robin?” Chrom whispers from the bed.

He swallows, not looking up. “Yeah?” His voice sounds hollow and wobbly.

“Is something wrong?”

“I -” He swallows again. For a moment, he thinks about telling Chrom that everything’s fine, that he should just go back to sleep… but this is his best friend. “I forgot my pills.”

“Your suppressants?” The blankets shift, and Chrom pads over. He crouches beside Robin, rubbing his eye. “Let me look.”

Robin hands over the bag, clinging to the corner of the dresser. Chrom is methodical, not rushed, inspecting every nook and cranny.

“I don’t see them,” Chrom says eventually, and looks up, hands falling still.

Robin has to look away, undone by the kind, worried expression in Chrom’s eyes. His shoulders hunch. His eyes feel like they might melt off his face. He’s _not_ going to cry.

“I’ll go get them tomorrow,” Chrom says. “You can enjoy a nice day with your parents, and I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

“Chrom!” Robin’s eyes fly up. “You would… do that for me?”

In the dim light, Chrom’s face is open, hiding nothing. He smiles softly, and takes one of Robin’s hands where he’s twisting the strap. “Of course, Robin. What are friends for, if not for this?”

Robin squeezes Chrom’s hand back, the panic easing from around his heart. He blinks a few more times, and draws a measured breath.

Chrom’s thumbs are soft on his knuckles. “You’ve missed a day before, and it’s been alright, hasn’t it?”

Robin nods, and uncurls a bit. Chrom’s right, he has missed a day or two before, and it was fine. “Thank you,” he says, and means it with all his heart.

Chrom smiles. “Any time. Do you think you can try to sleep?” Chrom drops Robin’s hand and rubs at his eyes again.

“Sure,” Robin says, although sleep seems so far away. Chrom would probably be upset to learn that he’d accidentally cuddled with Robin. Even if Robin enjoyed it. Robin is glad for the shadows to disguise the blush burning its way across his cheeks.

They crawl back into bed, facing away from each other. For a time, it’s quiet, the two of them simply breathing.

Robin blinks away hot tears as embarrassment settles in, letting them fall to his pillow. He’d been so stupid, forgetting the pills… He doesn’t want Chrom to worry about him, or to lose any more sleep because of him. Bad enough he’ll be driving all day, instead of using the vacation to relax.

Chrom shifts, rolling onto his back. “Robin?” he whispers.

Robin makes a soft sound, trying to keep his tears from choking off his voice.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, breathless. He will be, in any case, once Chrom comes back tomorrow.

“...Do you want a hug?”

Robin buries his face in his pillow and wants to scream. It’s so gentle, so _nice_ , and it’s suddenly all Robin wants. Is this trip going to mess up their relationship? Will Chrom ever be able to look at him the same way, if he admits to wanting that hug, the proffered alpha comfort?

Slowly, Robin rolls onto his stomach, and then turns toward Chrom. It’s dark, but he can make out the curve of his lashes, the hesitant smile that crosses his mouth. He’s not mocking, not at all upset. He waits calmly for an answer, fingers partially curled on the pillow.

“Yeah,” Robin finally says. “I really do.”

Chrom raises his arm, and the blankets billow between them. Before either of them change their minds, Robin slithers in. Chrom wraps Robin in his arms, and from the corner of his eye, Robin thinks he sees a faint little smile brushing across Chrom’s mouth. He presses his cheek to Chrom’s shoulder.

The smell is relaxing now, dappled sunlight and warm wind through whispering leaves. He’s surprised by this change, surprised by his own reaction. Robin doesn’t fight it, though, exhaustion settling over him as the tension fades. Every breath is a bit slower than the last, no longer catching in his chest, and every breath brings more of that alpha scent in.

Chrom sighs, and it sounds… content.

Robin wonders at that for a few moments. Tentatively, he rests a hand on Chrom’s chest. Chrom’s heart is beating faster than Robin’s, which is strange since Robin was the one that forgot his medication.

Robin closes his eyes and savors the contact. Maybe tomorrow night he will get more of this. He won’t ask, but he’s not beyond taking it, if Chrom offers again.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

“Anytime,” Chrom answers back, voice lazy with sleep.

In the morning, he’s certain it was just a wisp of dream… but as he drifts off, he’s certain he feels Chrom’s fingers in his hair.

~*~

Robin wakes to the alarm and an empty warmth beneath the blankets. The shower is running in his bathroom, and a quick glance at the clock tells him his parents are already awake and bustling about.

He indulges himself for a few moments, rolling into Chrom’s spot, burying his face in the pillow. Chrom’s faint alpha scent is all over him. Maybe it will linger until he returns, Robin thinks, a bit wistfully. He doesn’t want Chrom to leave for that long, but he’s also very pleased that he offered to go back.

Chrom returns from the bathroom with damp hair, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. He pads over to the bed and slips into his shoes. Robin stops himself from rolling toward Chrom’s weight. “Feeling a bit better now?” Chrom asks, with a friendly, open smile.

Robin’s stomach flutters. “Yeah, it was a rough night.”

“I’ve had my share of bad days too,” Chrom says, reminding them both of the time last year when Emmeryn collapsed at work. The doctors had thrown around some terrifying diagnoses for a couple of days, but eventually determined she was just overworked. A week of rest and she was back to normal, with a stern mandate to take it easy.

Robin had brought Chrom breakfast and coffee every day, and taken extra notes during classes so Chrom could visit the hospital during that time. The experience brought Robin closer to Chrom’s family, and especially his mischievous little sister, who declared Robin an honorary member of the family (and then proceeded to dump a frog down the back of his shirt, as soon as Emmeryn was released).

“Figure I’ll leave after breakfast, if that’s okay?” Chrom’s stomach growls pointedly.

Robin blinks, and then throws the covers back and slips out of bed. “Is it ready?”

“Smells like it,” Chrom says. “I hope she made enough, I could eat a horse!”

“Don’t have to worry about that, she makes a ton.” Robin ruffles his hands through his hair in the mirror, and then glances back at Chrom. He’s not quite ready to remove Chrom’s scent from his skin with a shower, and he’s glad of the excuse to leave it there a little longer.

They head down to find the casserole is just coming out of the oven. Robin grabs two pieces of fresh, warm bacon from the plate, ducking from his mom’s swinging spatula as she shoos them both into the dining room. He hands one piece to Chrom and they crunch their way through a greeting with Robin’s father. He’s looking over the newspaper, but folds it up and puts it aside when they sit.

“I didn’t think we’d be seeing you two for at least another hour,” Validar says. “I know how Robin likes to sleep in.”

Robin rolls his eyes.

“It’s the life of a college student, sir,” Chrom says. “Robin said you were the same, when you went to college.”

Validar laughs, and turns to Robin. “I like this one,” he says, and Robin takes a drink of juice to keep from smiling - or showing his blush.

Katarina bustles in with the casserole and gives them all a healthy portion, then says, “I’ve got the next batch in now, so don’t be shy.”

The casserole is perfect as always, just the right mix of vegetables and sausage and egg. Chrom eats two whole servings, but turns away a third, despite Katarina’s prodding.

When Validar opens his paper again, and Katarina sneaks another slice of bacon on Robin’s plate, Chrom makes his apologies. He explains that he forgot something very important, without ever mentioning what it is, and tells them he has to go back for it.

Robin stirs the crumbs around his plate, aware all at once that he's going to miss Chrom. _It's just a day, a few hours_ , he scolds himself. Not even a whole night. Robin's just out of sorts because of the lack of suppressants in his system. This will be the longest he's gone without them since starting college, and he’s aware of how itchy his skin feels.

Chrom bumps his knee against Robin’s under the table. Robin’s fork clatters to his plate.

“You all right?” Chrom asks.

“Fine,” Robin says, and forces a smile.

Chrom cocks his head, knee still pressed to Robin's leg. Robin’s heart beats faster. He looks down, shifting his knee against Chrom’s.

“We’ll be busy all day,” Katarina cuts in. She reaches across the table to grip Robin’s fingers. “You promised we would go through the boxes in the attic, last time you were home. You won’t even know he’s gone.”

Robin sags, and Validar chuckles, lowering the business section. “Don’t work him too hard, Kat. He’s here on vacation.”

Chrom is still looking at Robin, and there’s awareness in his gaze.

Robin gives Chrom’s shoulder a little push with his fist. “Go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back.”

Chrom looks at him for another moment, and then nods. “Alright, then.”

_Don't go_ , Robin wants to say. It’s in his bones, a strange longing that he can’t shake off, even after Chrom has pulled him aside and given him a brief hug goodbye, under Katarina’s watchful eye. It worsens as Chrom’s car leaves the driveway. Robin presses his hand to the windowpane, already warming under the mid-morning sun.

When Katarina asks if he’s ready, Robin is glad for something to do, to put this emotion out of his mind.

~*~

The attic is hot, and Robin drags a box fan up the rickety folding stairs to move the stifled air around. He’s changed his clothes, washed his face and brushed his teeth and hair, but Chrom’s scent still lingers around him. He expects his mom to comment on it, but she doesn’t.

They work through the boxes and make good time, Katarina directing things into a goodwill pile or back into the corners for safekeeping. Robin falls into a comfortable rhythm with her, offering his own suggestions as each new box is uncovered. The bowling balls can probably go, and the skis, but Validar’s old manuals have to stay.

But then they come across a box that changes her scent. Robin stops, a dusty box in his hands, and glances over. “Mom?”

She’s got a pair of tiny shoes in her hands, kneeling before a plastic bin. “Oh, Robbie,” she breathes, and clutches the shoes to her chest. “I can’t get rid of these yet.”

“You don’t have to,” Robin says, and comes to sit cross-legged beside her. “We can keep them until you’re ready.”

She squeezes his hand. “Maybe… until _you’re_ ready.”

It takes him a moment to realize what she means. He swallows against a suddenly dry mouth. “Oh.”

As if sensing an opening, she says, “Do you think you and Chrom…?”

“Mom!” Robin blurts, before he can stop himself.

“I know,” she says. “But...don't you want a family of your own?”

“I…” Robin shakes his head. The urge to shrink back is an itch in his bones, but he doesn't allow himself to give in. “No, Mom. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “What do you mean?”

“I don't…” He peels an old shipping label off a nearby box, just to hear the rip. “It's complicated.”

She gasps. “Are you unable? Is there a problem with your heat, is that why your scents haven't mingled? Have you gotten that checked out? Oh Robbie, you should have _told_ me--”

“Mom, I'm on suppressants.” The words fall between them, and Robin doesn’t realize until that moment that he never intended to tell her. He wants to collect the words back up, like pieces of a glass vase shattered on the worn floorboards. She blinks at him, and he feels obligated to add, “I… haven't had a heat in three years.”

She's actually speechless. Her mouth opens and closes, and Robin takes the shoes from her hands and shoves them back into the container. She's making him feel wrong for this decision, a decision that's brought him a lot of peace and comfort over the years.

Katarina takes his hands. Either she’s trembling, or he is, and Robin doesn’t want to think about that too hard. “Why would you do this?” she finally asks.

He swallows. She can’t know the real reason. They swore never to tell her. He breathes in, and it’s her sharp alpha scent, all wrong. “It’s not a big deal. Everyone takes them on campus.”

“Honey, everyone took recreational drugs on campus when I was your age. It doesn't mean it's _right_.” She's squeezing his hands tight. He tries to shake her off, but she pulls him closer. It’s definitely Robin who is trembling, because her hands are unflinching. “Do you not like being an omega?”

The words are like a slap in the face, a splash of cold water.

“Of course I do,” he snaps. But… he hasn't exactly felt like an omega since starting the pills. Not a single time did he even contemplate going off of them, giving in to his heat. It was much more convenient to simply continue on as he had been. A trickle of sweat leaves his temple and trails into his hair.

“Then why? Why are you doing this? Are you happy like this?”

Robin wrenches his hands free, remembering a cold conference room, a too-tight necktie, a table full of scowling faces.

“I like taking them,” he says. “This is my decision, Mom, and I don't appreciate you questioning me.”

She rises, hands on hips, and Robin cannot take a lecture from her right now, not with his heart stinging and his hormones rising, the oppressive warmth in the attic clinging too close.

“I need some air,” he blurts, and rushes for the exit. He trips off the bottom step, stumbling hard against the wall. He doesn’t wait to see if she is following down the ladder. He rushes into his room and slams the door.

He focuses on breathing, counting his inward breaths, until his body grows steady once more. He pulls out his cell, hoping for a text from Chrom, but it’s still too early for that. He left four hours ago, and isn’t even back to school. His thumb hovers over the green Call button, but after a moment he lowers the phone.

_Get a hold of yourself_ , he thinks. This is why he brought Chrom home, to pretend that he is at least thinking about giving her grandchildren. _Why didn’t I just lie?_

The ladder in the hallway creaks, and Robin retreats to the bed, shoes still on. He curls up into the pillow, and the faint scent is enough.

The door opens slowly and he pretends not to notice. He almost wants to continue the fight, except for the ill twisty feeling in his stomach.

He’s glad when she closes the door and leaves him alone.

~*~

Half an hour later, Validar knocks to tell him lunch is ready. Robin doesn’t feel much like eating, but slinks out into the dining room anyway.

Katarina’s made grilled cheese, cut on the diagonal, just the way he likes it. And even though his chest gets tight when he sits across from her like always, he gives her a little smile and dunks the sandwich into his tomato soup.

The meal is an apology, of sorts - she always makes this for him when he’s having a bad day. He feels a little better when he’s done, less queasy, anyway. They talk about inconsequential things, moving carefully around the conversation from the attic.

His mood improves considerably when his cell phone rings. He leaps up and rushes to his room, ignoring his parents’ knowing glances.

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the door to close it.

“Hey, yourself. How’s the cleaning going?” Chrom’s voice sinks into him, relaxing him more than he cares to admit.

“It, uh, went fine.”

“What happened? You sound like that time you thought you failed Dr. Themis’ midterm.” His  concern is palpable through the speaker.

Robin scuffs his foot on the carpet. “I told my mom I’m on suppressants, and she freaked.”

Chrom makes a noise. “Damn, Robin, I’m sorry. I wish I was there.”

_Me, too_ , Robin thinks, but doesn’t say it aloud. “It was bound to come out at some point.”

“Are you okay? Do you want me to come back and pick you up?”

“It’s fine. Are you at school?”

“Yeah, just got to the room.” There’s the jingle of keys, and Robin’s mind fills in the blanks, seeing Chrom toss them to the desk as he always does, even though an empty keyrack hangs beside the door.

“You made good time,” Robin says suspiciously.

“Where do you want me to look?”

Robin sinks onto the messed-up bed, running his hand along the pillow. “The bathroom?” he says, crinkling his nose.

“Okay, I’m in here. I don’t see it on the counter. Is it…” He shuffles through the shelves behind the mirror, and something clatters to the counter. Chrom curses. “Hang on. Okay, there. No, I don’t think they’re in here.”

“Maybe in my backpack?” Robin imagines Chrom moving around the dorm room, sitting on his bed, as they go through every potential location. Robin kicks off his shoes and leans back against the headboard, pulling his knees up to his chest. He chews idly on a fingernail, growing more and more worried as the minutes crawl by.

Finally, Chrom lets out a triumphant cry. “Got them!”

“Ah!” Robin breathes, dropping his head to the headboard. “Where were they?”

“In your shoes,” Chrom says. Robin hears the pills rattling around inside the bottle.

“Gods, thank you. When will you be home?”

Chrom pauses for just a second. “I just need to pee, and then I’ll be hitting the road. What are you having for dinner?”

“Mom’s making pizza.”

Chrom groans. “I’m missing pizza? Man, you’re lucky I like you.”

Robin smiles, and ducks his face into his collar. “Chrom, thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you would do the same for me. Alright, I’ll see you in four hours.”

“Don’t speed!” Robin blurts. “I’ll see you in _five_.”

“Alright, fine, _five_ hours,” Chrom echoes.

After they say their goodbyes and the line goes dead, Robin holds the phone to his chest. He glances up and sees his own expression in the mirror - happy, almost gleeful. It fades as he looks at himself, turning into a frown.

_Are you happy like this?_ his mother had asked. Robin hadn’t been able to say yes.

He glances down at the phone when it beeps.

Chrom has sent a selfie, balancing the pill bottle on his nose, there in the midst of their messy dorm room. _< Be back soon!>_ the text reads.

Robin scrubs at his face, digging the pads of his fingers into his eyebrows. Then he puts the phone away and heads back downstairs.

~*~

After helping with the dishes, Validar invites Robin to work in the garden. There are weeds to be pulled, and a pair of tree-like plants to be repotted - one of the terracotta pots has broken.

As Robin collects weeds in the bucket beside him, Validar works at the other end of the flower bed. It’s not hard work, and it relaxes Robin to spend this time with him. He’s sure that Katarina told Validar all about the conversation, but his father doesn’t bring it up. They work in relative silence for a while.

When they meet in the middle, Validar tells him about the newest fund at the brokerage, focused on medical enhancement opportunities. The smell of overturned earth is warm and inviting, reminding Robin of many a summer spent out here.

Robin tells his father about the project he’s been working on in his marketing class, and how he thinks it might help Levin Enterprises in reaching a new set of clients. Validar listens intently, nodding when Robin explains the end-goal, his eyes bright.

Robin remembers the summer “internships” with his father, starting the year he turned eleven. Katarina liked to joke, even then, that Robin got his good looks and unfortunate stature from her, but his mind from Validar. From the moment Robin first set foot in the chaotic trading department, he knew he wanted to continue the family legacy. Validar’s great-grandfather started the investment company from nothing, and three generations of Levin men have held the CEO position. Robin selected his dual majors - Business and Economics - with the intention of working at the company, following in Validar’s footsteps.

Validar is careful not to mention the event the summer before heading to YU. _I’ll take care of it, Robin_ , Validar had said, afterwards.

They haven’t spoken of it since.

The plant in need of repotting is already wilting. Robin pours some fresh potting soil into the new pot, a giant urn dyed the colors of a fiery Plegian sunset. Validar directs Robin to add a bit more, and together they loosen the plant from its old home. They talk about the markets as they replace the first, and then move on to the second.

As they lift the root ball, Validar says, “I heard about your discussion, in the attic.”

Robin rests his cheek against the woven stems, not quite looking at his father. There’s no condemnation in his even tone.

“Whatever you decide, I will support you. And Kat will too, even if she’s a bit...”

“Controlling?” Robin provides.

Validar gives a soft huff of laughter. “I was going to say ‘decisive’.”

“I mean, I _know_ she’s just looking out for me, but… she doesn’t understand.”

Validar gives a soft hum.

They lower the plant into the new pot. Robin holds it steady as Validar scoops more soil around it, packing it tight.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Robin asks, hating how small and weak he feels, how much he wants to hear his father’s praise.

Validar lowers the spade, and looks up at him. “I want you to be true to yourself, whatever that means to you. And no matter what, I’m still proud of you.” He smiles.

“Even if I’m on suppressants?”

“Ah,” his dad says, running a wrist across his forehead, streaked with dirt. “There’s no shame in taking suppressants for a little while. I stand by what I said before.”

Robin swallows, remembering their conversation before school. Validar had thought the suppressants would be good, but only if Robin took regular breaks from them - which Robin hasn’t been doing.

“Have you really been using them for three years straight?” Validar is very gentle with the question, but it still hurts.

Robin doesn’t answer. The leather gloves are rough against his fingers.

“Is this because of what happened with the Board?” Validar is soft, gentle, but his words still pack a punch that Robin isn’t ready for. He remembers standing before the company Board, in that too-cold, air-conditioned conference room, wearing a tie and button-down, and feeling insignificant and small.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Robin blurts, his voice raw.

Validar pats the soil into place. His eyes are kindly, open. “I’ll always be proud of you, no matter your presentation, whether you take suppressants or not. You’re still you - the best, brightest son a father could ever ask for.”

Robin swallows hard, and blinks a few times. It takes him a second to recover his voice. “I know that,” he says.

Validar sits back on his heels, and motions for Robin to let go. The plant stands, tall and confident in its new position, feathery fronds waving in the breeze.

Beside it, Robin feels insignificant. Sweat sneaks down his spine, beneath his collar. He squints against the sunlight.

Validar says, “Maybe, over winter break, you should consider taking a few weeks off the pills? We could get the doctor to prescribe you an inducer, and get it out of the way--”

“Dad,” Robin interrupts. “I’ve got it under control.”

“Three years is a long time, Robin,” Validar says. “It’s not generally recommended to go that long--”

“I _know_ , Dad.”

“How long were you planning on taking them? There are other, safer avenues we could pursue--”

Robin rises and shucks off the gloves, dropping them to the worn red flagstones. “I’m going inside.”

“Robin, wait,” Validar says.

Robin stands there for a moment, not looking at him. His fair skin itches - probably the beginnings of a sunburn, and he’s sweaty and covered in dirt. “I need a shower,” Robin says, and turns toward the house.

Katarina comes out of the kitchen as Robin opens the slider, but he brushes past her before she can ask him what’s wrong. “I need a shower,” Robin says again. “I’m a mess.”

She lets him go, and he stomps down the hallway, heedless of the dirt he’s tracking on the carpet. He grabs some clothes at random from his suitcase, and heads for the shower.

He’s halfway through scrubbing the dirt and sweat from his back when he remembers his earlier determination to keep Chrom’s scent on him all day. He leans his head back in the hot spray, pressing his hands to the glass door and the cool porcelain wall. A scream builds up inside of him, and he stuffs it down.

Chrom will be back tonight. Things will be better this evening, when Chrom returns with the pills… and Robin can get back to normal.

He feels a little better when he comes out of the shower. He clears the steam from the bathroom mirror, letting the water trickle from his hair and down his neck. His cheeks feel puffy, and when he touches them his fingerprints linger white. He’s sunburnt, and doesn’t particularly like the way he smells right now.

It smells like loneliness, and no amount of rose-scented toner can fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, the bed-sharing warms my soul.... poor Robin though, this chapter was not very kind to him... (And don't worry, the event at the company will be explained in detail in a later chapter!) Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! <3


	3. Chapter 3

Chrom pulls into the driveway and sinks into the driver’s seat for just a moment. When he turns the key off, the lovely sound of crickets can be heard, echoing around the house. It’s cold, colder than he expected, and he shivers in the light sweatshirt he’s wearing before stepping onto the driveway. 

He’s just reaching back into the car when the front door opens, and a short figure comes out. 

Chrom’s heart lightens as Robin comes down the long walk. “How was the pizza?” he calls. 

Robin doesn’t slow. He barrels right into Chrom, throwing his arms around his neck. Chrom takes a step back, surprised but pleased at the welcome. He holds Robin close on instinct, recalling a shared warmth beneath the blankets. Robin smells… strange, sharper than Chrom remembers - probably just the lack of suppressants in his system. 

“Hello,” Chrom breathes, and rubs his cheek against Robin’s hair. “I guess you missed me.” 

Robin looks up, still pressed to his body. His face is reddish, made more pronounced by his whitish hair, spun silver in the floodlights. A small tremor runs through Robin’s body. A shiver, Chrom realizes. 

“Where’s your coat? You’ll catch cold,” Chrom says, and immediately strips off his own sweatshirt and holds it out for Robin. Robin slips into it, hovering close once he gets his arms into the sleeves. Chrom flips the hood up, covering Robin’s face, and Robin grins as he adjusts it back. Just his fingertips stick out from the sleeves, and it’s possibly the cutest thing Chrom has ever seen. 

“You alright?” Chrom asks, glancing back to the door, where Robin’s parents wait, looking rather anxious. Something definitely happened since they talked. 

“Now that you’re back, yes,” Robin says, fidgeting with the sweatshirt strings. 

Chrom goes to shut the car door, and then notices the object sitting on the passenger seat. 

“Oh, I got you something when I stopped for gas,” he says. “Close your eyes.” 

“For me?” Robin obeys, smiling, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Chrom pauses just a moment and then holds the single white rose under Robin’s nose. Robin leans in, breathing deep, eyebrows scrunched. His mouth falls open, and he takes the stem with delicate fingers. “Chrom,” he whispers, eyes sparking with warmth. 

Chrom rubs at his head, his whole body aflame - he’s glad he gave Robin his sweatshirt, he doesn’t need it right now. “It, uh, reminded me of you. You always smell like roses, and, you know, white for your hair… Are you crying?” 

Robin shakes himself all over and blinks a few times. “No,” he says, unconvincingly. “Chrom, thank you.” And he slips in beneath Chrom’s arm and hugs him again, twirling the rose under his nose. Chrom’s heart is slamming in his chest like a jackhammer. He’s an idiot, getting his friend an obviously romantic gift like this… but it _could_ be written off as something he did to convince Robin’s parents. Maybe. Robin’s reactions certainly hint to Chrom that he’s more than okay with the gift. He’s _pleased_ , Chrom can smell it, and that’s not something Robin would be able to fake. 

Chrom closes the car door with one hand, keys jingling, and guides Robin back toward the house. “The pills are in the left pocket,” he tells Robin in a low tone. 

Robin’s hand slips into the sweatshirt pocket, and Chrom hears the tell-tale chatter of the bottle. “Gods, _thank you_ ,” Robin says, his voice low. He smiles, and the ten hour round trip drive was worth it for that expression alone. 

Validar holds open the door and Chrom ushers Robin inside. 

“Robin said you love pizza, so I kept a few pieces warm for you,” Katarina says, eyes lingering on the rose with a strange expression, not quite a smile. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Levin.” Chrom’s stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Didn’t you eat on the way up?” Robin asks, poking at his stomach. 

“I ate,” Chrom says, grinning. He wolfed down a fast food burger and some fries as he was leaving campus, but that was hours ago. 

Robin leads him into the kitchen with entwined fingers. He only releases Chrom to serve up the pizza - still hot, and crispy as Chrom’s ever had. Robin’s parents linger behind them, and Chrom is struck with the strangeness of the situation, and how quiet they are. 

“I’ll be right back,” Robin says, patting the pocket to make sure the pills are still in there, and leaves Chrom standing at the kitchen counter with his parents. 

Chrom hastily swallows down the mouthful of cheese. It’s delicious, so much better than the burger. 

“Let me get you a glass of water,” Katarina says, leaping for something to do. 

Chrom peeks after Robin to make sure he’s gone into the room, and then turns to Katarina and Validar. “Did something happen?” 

Katarina smiles as she sets a glass on the counter, but her expression cracks a bit at the edges. “He told us he’s been taking suppressants for three years, and we’re a little concerned. I - hmm. He doesn’t like to be coddled.” She says the last with a heavy inflection, as if it’s a word people often use to describe her often. 

“We just want to make sure he’s alright,” Validar adds. 

Katarina slips beneath Validar’s long arm, hugging him close. “How long have you two been together?” 

“Just a couple of months,” Chrom says, and takes another bite of the pizza, then washes it down. 

“Do _you_ want children?” 

Chrom chokes on the water. “I - yes, someday.” He narrows his eyes. “Why, does Robin not want them?” 

Katarina looks like she’s just bitten a lemon. “I was hoping you’d had that discussion with him.” 

Robin didn’t cover this in his plan. Chrom panics for a few moments. What had Robin said about kids? It wasn’t casual dorm room conversation.

“Not yet,” he finally says. “We’re both focused on school, right now.” 

“But after?” 

“Kat,” Validar says, squeezing her arm. “Let him eat in peace.” 

Chrom takes another bite of the pizza, and groans at the combination of meats and cheese and sauce. He wipes at his mouth with a proffered napkin. 

Robin’s parents really look concerned, though, so after his first slice, he says, “Why don’t I go check on him?” 

“Thank you,” Katarina says instantly. Chrom leaves the kitchen as quickly as possible, and heads for the bedroom. 

~*~ 

Robin slips into the room, and then buries his face in the sweatshirt, breathing deep again and again until his body relaxes, in spite of itself. 

He doesn’t know how the day went so wrong. He’s been twitchy and frustrated since Chrom left, and now he’s back and Robin should feel better… but he doesn’t. 

It’s probably just the hormone imbalance from missing the pills for two days, he reminds himself. 

Robin removes the bottle from the pocket and studies the label. He lifts the sleeve to his mouth and presses it there, inhaling Chrom’s fresh alpha scent. He doesn’t want to relinquish the sweatshirt, not yet, not when he felt so bereft after washing Chrom’s scent off of him. 

He was rather rude to his parents, all things considered. He flops onto the bed and curls up. He shouldn’t have walked away from his father, shouldn’t have been so silent at dinner. He _should_ just take the pill now, and get things back to normal… 

But he doesn’t, not yet. 

Because he _knows_ they’re right. He shouldn’t have let this go for this long. He should have forced the suppressant breaks and the discomfort. He should have had his heat while he was safe at home, over vacation. 

He reaches out and runs his fingers along the delicate rose petals, lying on the bed beside him. 

His father’s words surface - _We could get the doctor to prescribe you an inducer, and get it out of the way_ \- and he shudders at the thought of needing _that_ , like he doesn’t know how to take care of himself. 

He feels too warm, but refuses to strip off the sweatshirt. His face prickles uncomfortably. 

There’s a soft knock at the door. “Hey, it’s just me.” Chrom. 

Robin doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tell him to go away, either. 

Chrom slips inside, pads over to the bed, sinks down beside Robin. 

“You’re sunburned,” he says, and leans on his elbow, the rose between them. 

Robin blinks up at him. “Do they hate me?” His question sounds small, like a child’s. 

“Of course not. They’re just worried.” 

Robin groans and turns his face into the blankets, then winces back at the pressure on his tender skin. 

“Hang on, I know I saw aloe on the kitchen counter.” Chrom pads off, and returns momentarily with a small spike in hand. He squeezes the liquid from it. “Here, sit up,” he says, motioning with a finger full of clear goo. Robin does, wrapping the sweatshirt a little tighter around him. He closes his eyes and gasps as Chrom smooths the aloe across his nose and cheeks. “Is that it?” Chrom asks. 

Robin shakes his head, and slips the sweatshirt a couple of inches down, then turns around so Chrom can see the skin on the back of his neck. Chrom’s hissed breath is sharp against his tender skin,. Robin yelps before biting his lips. 

“You need to get more sun,” Chrom jokes. His fingers are like fire against the skin on his neck. Robin’s face is already going numb, although it’s still a bit puffy. 

Finally, Chrom sits back, and Robin turns slowly toward him. “Are you feeling better?” He motions to the bottle on the bed. 

Robin nods, slowly. Chrom thinks he’s already taken them...

“Do you want another hug?” 

Robin’s eyes are feeling hot, hotter than his sunburned cheeks, which are now comfortably numb. He nods, and almost starts crying when Chrom leans in and holds him. 

“I’m sorry to put you through all this,” Robin says. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.” 

“Hey, none of that.” Chrom bumps his chin. He’s smiling as he tilts Robin’s head up. They are close, sharing the same air. Robin bites his bottom lip. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, than helping you… You look a little tired, though. Did you eat?” 

“A little,” Robin says. His stomach has been in knots all evening. 

“Come on, help me eat the rest of that pizza before it goes cold.” 

“What about my parents?” 

“If you want, we can talk with them tomorrow. We don’t have to have any discussion tonight.” 

Robin sighs and leans his head on Chrom’s shoulder. He hasn’t missed the implications of _we_ , and Chrom seems genuine in his offer to help. “Thanks.” 

~*~

They do share the pizza, and Katarina silently puts more in the oven. Chrom eats every last crumb, and Robin is surprised by his own appetite. Robin’s mom tries to sit at the table with them, but Validar gently herds her away. 

When they’re sure Robin’s parents are gone, retreated into their room, Chrom presses his knee to Robin’s, beneath the table. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

Robin ducks his face into the collar. He doesn’t, not really, but Chrom is being so supportive and it all just spills out of him. He avoids any mention of the event that happened at Levin Enterprises, that summer before college, but tells Chrom everything else. He breaks his crust into little pieces on his plate. 

At the end of it, Chrom squeezes his shoulder. They’ve gradually drifted close, heads almost together. “That sucks,” he growls, with just a bit of protective alpha. “I mean, what your mom said, that was out of line. But she’s not doing it to hurt you.” 

Robin sighs. “I know. They’re right, though, I shouldn’t let it go this long.” He thinks of the pills that he left on the bed. He raises the overlong sleeve to his mouth and breathes in, closing his eyes. 

Maybe he should send Chrom away, and go see a doctor tomorrow, just get induced - even the thought has him shuddering - and get it over with. 

Chrom slips an arm around his shoulders, rubbing at his bicep through the sweatshirt. 

“I’m tired,” Robin says. “Can we just go up to bed, and deal with this tomorrow?” 

“Of course.” Chrom gathers up the plates and glasses, and Robin trails behind as he puts them in the dishwasher, sleeve to his mouth once more. Chrom keeps sneaking glances at Robin, as if checking to make sure he’s really okay, and with his mom it would have been annoying. But it’s rather nice when Chrom does it. 

This is all just his hormones, out of control. He could really mess things up with Chrom if he doesn’t stop this. Tomorrow, he decides, a bit frantically. Tomorrow he’ll have the conversation with his parents, and Chrom will be there, and then Chrom will leave and Robin will have his heat and things will be fine. 

Chrom puts a light hand on his back as they walk down the hallway. When they get into the room, Chrom goes to his suitcase, and Robin flops across the bed, gathering up the rose. He rolls onto his back and raises it to his nose. The delicate floral scent curls around him, and he twirls the stem, careful not to get caught on the thorns. 

Chrom is leaning against the dresser, watching him in silence. Robin puts down the rose, glad for once that his cheeks are sunburned, so his flush can’t be seen. 

“I’m just gonna get changed for sleep,” Chrom says, and motions to the bathroom. 

Robin nods. When Chrom is gone, he kicks off his shoes and swaps to sleep pants. Then he rolls onto his side of the bed, and lies outside of the blankets, still wrapped in Chrom’s sweatshirt. 

He closes his eyes, content and full, meaning just to rest them for a few moments. 

Robin wakes when Chrom returns, blinking until Chrom turns off the light. He rubs at his eyes. The stars glow from the ceiling, a luminous yellow-green. Beneath them, Chrom lies down, facing him.They look at each other for a few stretched seconds. 

Chrom raises the blankets between them, giving Robin a welcoming, almost-shy smile. 

Robin doesn’t want to let this invitation slip away. He scoots under the blankets, despite the fact that he’s grown quite warm, and into Chrom’s waiting arms. He nuzzles his jaw against Chrom’s shoulder, the cotton shirt communicating the warmth of the body beneath it. And then, despite his burnt nose, he slips upward and breathes the warmth off of Chrom’s neck. 

The smell is intoxicating, bright and buttery. 

Chrom goes quite still, and his hands tighten around Robin. 

Robin sighs, and pulls back, onto an elbow, face inches from Chrom’s. 

Chrom’s eyes are dark and deep, catching the faint glow from the nightlight in the corner. He swallows, and his full lips squeeze together, as if he’s holding back words. 

Their legs are entwined, one of Chrom’s knees between Robin’s thighs, come together in natural alignment. 

Robin’s breath is shallow. His body feels light, buoyant, ascendant. His fingers slip out from the too-long sleeve and brush against Chrom’s strong cheekbone, down his jaw. Chrom’s lips part, and he sucks in a soft, shaky breath. 

Robin leans in, and between one second and the next, without conscious decision, his lips are pressed to Chrom’s. 

They are warm, and softer than Robin imagined, softer than rose petals. Chrom parts his mouth and Robin _tastes_ him. 

And then Robin’s brain catches up with his body. 

He just - _kissed Chrom_. 

His first kiss. 

His fingers fly up to his mouth. Chrom is staring at him, wide, unblinking, and then his mouth parts into a smile, a grin. 

Robin smiles too, only he can’t get enough air. 

“Robin,” Chrom whispers, and his hands go to Robin’s shoulderblades, cupping them gently, holding him close. 

“Chrom…” 

Things are falling into place, fragments of details in Robin’s mind. His moodiness, the way he’s clung to Chrom’s alpha scent, the way he feels so much better when he’s in Chrom’s arms… 

His body, alternating hot and cold throughout the day. He’d assumed it was a hormonal imbalance, and he was only partially right. 

He won’t need to be induced, after all. 

He’s going into heat. 

~*~

Chrom returns from the bathroom to find Robin still curled up in his sweatshirt, almost asleep. He's much more relaxed than earlier, and judging by how much pizza he ate, he barely had dinner. It gets Chrom's alpha in a tizzy, thinking about Robin skipping meals. It's one of the two things he always makes certain his roommate gets at school - adequate food, and at least four hours of sleep. Robin doesn't mind it too much, and Chrom made it abundantly clear that if he ever got too overwhelmed by it, he should tell him. 

Something deeper is going on with Robin during this vacation, beyond just his frustration with his parents. But he seems amenable to talking with them, and they seem ready to make amends. 

He smiles at Robin, and turns off the light, filled with a secret, happy pride at seeing Robin still wrapped in his sweatshirt. He remembers the way Robin pressed the cuff to his mouth. 

Chrom slips into the bed, and Robin blinks awake for the briefest of moments before nuzzling into his pillow. 

But Chrom isn't content with this, and wants Robin under the blankets, to make sure he's warm enough. So he moves the blankets, offering another hug. Robin blinks at him, and then moves into it, eagerly, sliding into his arms like he belongs there. 

This is changing their relationship, it must be… and Chrom feels a pulse of danger at the thought. He holds Robin loose but close. 

But then Robin keeps moving, shifting into his neck - and scents him. 

Robin is _scenting_ him. 

Chrom doesn't believe it, never thought Robin would do it - at least, not this soon. He'd hoped, of course, with the same desperate impossibility as the idea that Robin might want to someday mate him. He is aware of Robin's body, all the points they touch, the way the breath flows through him, beneath Chrom's enveloping arms. 

Robin's eyes are open and aware when he pulls back, but he doesn't go far. He regards Chrom with a slow, intimate look. Chrom feels the weight of Robin’s attention drifting across his mouth. And then Robin’s hand follows his eyes. 

Robin touches him. Chrom stays perfectly still, all his body's awareness narrowed to the tips of Robin's fingers against his skin. 

Chrom closes his eyes as Robin kisses him. 

He doesn't mean to, doesn't want to startle him, but he can't help the way he moves against Robin's mouth, wanting more. Robin withdraws, but it's not urgent. There’s nothing in his scent that indicates he’s displeased with this. When Chrom looks up, Robin is touching his own mouth. 

Chrom thinks wonderingly, _I know what Robin’s lips taste like._ And he's hungry for more, with a dizzying brightness. 

He's suddenly smiling, and Robin is smiling too, and he wants to roll them over, draw Robin on top of him, and kiss him again and again. 

Chrom goes to pull Robin close, heart pounding, racing, tripping over itself, trying to leap across to find Robin’s. But he resists. He puts his fingers against Chrom’s chest, holding his heart in place. 

Something is building behind his eyes, but Chrom can't see it fully in the darkness.

Chrom wants to kiss him again, wants to experience that delicious sweetness, the lingering taste of rose and _Robin_. 

“I…” Robin whispers. “Chrom…” 

Chrom brushes his thumb against Robin’s chin, staring in the dim light. “Can I…” he breathes, and leans in, tilting Robin's face toward his.

Robin pushes away, hand on Chrom's chest. “No,” he says, and it nearly breaks Chrom's heart. It looks like he's about to cry, and Chrom hates that look in his eye, wants nothing more than to fix it. “No, I need you to leave.” 

Chrom's mouth opens. He immediately loosens his hands on Robin's body. The warmth has gone, the scent gathering around them has soured. “Oh,” he says.

Robin looks a bit wild-eyed, breathless. It takes a lot of effort for Chrom to get out of the bed, but he does, for Robin. 

“Leave the room?”

Robin nods, eyebrows coming together. He looks so sad, so distraught, and the smell - Chrom's alpha is _angry_ at the thought of leaving Robin smelling so unhappy. 

“Okay... I'll be outside if you need anything.” 

Robin turns into Chrom's pillow, cuff clutched to his face, obscuring his mouth. “Okay.” 

Dejected and rejected, Chrom obeys. 

~*~ 

A scream bubbles up inside of Robin. It rips through him, bringing understanding and fury alongside this feeling of powerlessness. 

He didn't want to send Chrom away, but he just needed a moment to think, away from that scent, from those lips. 

Away from his first kiss… He'd always thought it would be special, magical. His first kiss would sweep him off his feet, mysterious and lovely and perfectly respectful of his boundaries. 

There was no sweeping, no love at first sight… just a steady slow something in his chest that needed a spark, any bit of friction, really, to ignite. 

The tell-tale signs of heat settle into him: a languid warmth suffusing his bones and muscles, concentrated in his lower abdomen, the itchiness just below his skin, the painful flutter of his heart as he wishes for an alpha to help him through it. Before college, he used to hole himself up in his room, and his mother would keep him safe. It's a secure place for him, a place where he can let himself loose, do whatever he wants without having anyone judge him as omega. And between that security and the help of some items he keeps secreted in a drawer, he always got through his heats. 

He shoves the cuff into his face and breathes in, but it makes a poor comparison now he's had it from the source directly. 

Robin crawls out of bed and starts pacing. He walks all the way around the bed, to the closet, and then back. He feels his body, aware of his own rising desires. If he asks, his parents will send Chrom away. And he'll understand, surely, how not ready for this Robin really is… 

Robin bites his lip. Chrom would help him. Of this, he's certain. He's surprised the alpha _left_ , but Chrom has always been respectful of his boundaries, even when he thought he was beta. 

He glances at the pills on the nightstand. They won't help anymore. They wouldn't have helped even if he'd taken them right when Chrom returned. 

Robin is adrift, and the waters are about to get a lot less calm. He makes a soft whine, and ducks his face into his hands. Even the sunburn is nothing compared to the ache in his chest. 

What is he going to do?

~*~

Chrom closes the door behind him, and then leans against it. 

Did he do something wrong? Robin’s reaction was a complete one-eighty within the space of a few frantic heartbeats. Was Chrom wrong to hold him close, to want to hug him? Was it wrong of him to leave? 

Minutes of quiet desperation sink in. It’s silent, all around the house, but especially in Robin’s room. Has he gone to sleep? Chrom checks his watch - it’s just after 9:30. He sinks against the door, then slides to the floor, alert for any sound from within. He thinks he hears feet, padding toward the door. Imagining that Robin is just on the other side of the door, maybe pressing his back against it just as Chrom is, gives him brief comfort. 

After an hour, Chrom realizes - Robin’s not going to ask him back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long a$$ week and I'm too emotionally drained to write a proper author's note, so I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

He’s so _warm_. Robin is lying on the bed, curled up with the blankets thrown back. His skin is tender all over. He’s taken off his sleep pants, but doesn’t want to remove his underwear, embarrassed by what he might find down there, what he knows is down there. He rolls over, exposing his other side to the air. He wants to turn the fan on, but not badly enough to get out of bed. The alarm clock blinks tiredly at him: it’s almost 3am. 

Has Chrom given up on him, gone to sleep on the couch? Has he stormed off, left him and gone back to the dorm? Robin flops onto his back and wipes his sleeve along his sweaty brow. He’s starting to smell of heat. When he had his first heat, he’d asked his parents to replace his door with one that will keep the scent contained, so they probably won’t know until mid-morning that his heat has begun. 

They’ll be happy, anyway - glad that he’s finally given in to it, and that he’s safe at home. 

And by that time Chrom will be long gone. 

A liquid other than sweat seeps down his temple, and he wipes that away too. 

Thankfully his heat’s rising helps loosen the claws of heartache from his mind. He drifts, more and more. During his lucid moments, he tries to come to terms with the fact that Chrom won’t be there with him, except in spirit, through his sweatshirt. They’ll have to pry it from his fingers, kicking and screaming. He needs it, and if it will smell of both of them by the end of all this, then so be it. Chrom probably won’t want it back. 

Robin rolls onto his other side, and reaches for the rose. It’s still bright, undiminished, and a little sweet. He raises it to his nose, buries his face in it, and tries not to think of Chrom’s mouth. 

~*~

Sleep eludes Chrom, and his backside goes numb, but he stays right outside Robin’s door. Hours pass, long, slow, and he closes his eyes, but there’s no rest to be had. If he heard anything from within the door, any sound of pain or discomfort, he’d be back inside in an instant, just to make sure that Robin is alright. He hears nothing. 

At quarter to five, Robin’s parents’ door opens just down the hall. Chrom pulls his knees up to his chest as Validar walks toward him. The beta blinks down at him. “Rough night?” he asks, quietly. 

Chrom nods. 

Validar motions him to follow, and Chrom does, glancing back at Robin’s door just once before trailing his father. 

Validar turns the drip coffee maker on, and looks at Chrom. “Did you two fight?” 

“Something like that,” Chrom says. He’s cautious of revealing too much to Robin’s parents, now, especially as he’s uncertain _what_ he did to make Robin eject him from the room like that. It wasn’t the kiss - Robin had fully initiated it. 

He’s confused, and sore, and a bit hurt. He accepts the cup of coffee Validar hands him, then dumps a scoop of sugar into it. He leans over the granite counter, letting the caustic scent rouse his mind, tingle his nose. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Chrom sighs. “Thank you, though.” 

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t usually hold grudges,” Validar says, swirling creamer into his cup. “He’s as level-headed as any beta I’ve ever known, and not prone to hysteria.” 

“You haven't seen him during during exam-time,” Chrom says. 

Validar chuckles. “He’s harder on himself than anyone else will ever be. I was hoping I could speak with you alone, actually. There’s… something you should know, and I doubt Robin’s told you about it. He shuts me down when I try to bring it up. But if you two are serious, you should know.” 

Chrom straightens, and his stomach clenches. That doesn't sound good, but he wants to know. 

Validar takes a sip and leans his hip against the cupboards. “It happened the summer before he went away to college. I assume he’s told you about the family company?” Chrom nods. “He’s my only child, and he’s very capable. Before my father passed, we’d agreed that Robin would inherit the company. He’s always loved Levin Enterprises, been enamoured with the work we do. I could never ask for a better son.” There's genuine pride in Validar's expression. 

Chrom sips the coffee, smiling wistfully as he imagines how happy Robin's childhood must have been. It still aches, sometimes, when he thinks about the way things could have been, had he been raised by parents instead of his sister. 

“I wanted to introduce him formally to the board before he went off to college. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me… It seemed right at the time, though he was only just turned seventeen. So we went before the board.” Validar gives him a bitter look. “They refused to acknowledge Robin as next in line.”

“What? Why?” Chrom presses his hands to the cool countertop. “He’s perfect for the job. I’ve seen how much he loves that company.” 

Validar nods, and looks away. “I thought the directors were of like mind, that they, too, would see what I saw. But they didn’t. They only saw that he was omega.” 

Chrom’s blood runs cold. He stands upright, no longer tired or sore from the long night spent at Robin’s door. “But…” He can’t even speak, cannot give voice to how wrong that is. 

“I know you have laws about this in Ylisse - the University offers a great deal of support for all secondary genders - but Plegia is not as forward thinking. This is more common than you think.” Validar looks equal parts furious and embarrassed. 

Chrom puts a fist on the counter. “There’s nothing wrong with being omega. Robin’s more competent than _any_ alpha in our classes. He’s smart and gentle, and ruthless when he has to be!” 

Validar smiles, and for some reason Chrom feels his face heating up.

He lowers his voice and continues. “That's terrible. How did Robin take it?” 

“Badly,” Validar says, and his voice and demeanor are both tinged with regret. “I didn’t know how much it had affected him until -- yesterday. He decided he would go to college to learn it anyway - he’d already been accepted into his double majors, with a very nice scholarship package. We discussed it, and I told him it would be good for him to get on suppressants, that maybe it would convince the board he knew what he was doing.” Validar sighs into his cup. 

Chrom forces himself to lean against the counter, to relax his shoulders. “I - I didn’t know,” he says, throat tight. 

“Neither does Katarina,” Validar says, and meets his eyes. “I’d appreciate if you keep this from her.” 

“Of course,” Chrom says, but his insides are boiling. To treat Robin like that, to deny him his heritage… how could anyone be so cruel, so narrow-minded? 

Validar grips Chrom's shoulder, and were it anyone else, Chrom might have brushed it off. But the gesture is not meant to be dominating, more… familial. Paternal. “I was so relieved to hear he’d finally started dating someone. Of course I would like grandkids, but I will never pressure Robin into having them when he’s not ready. But after what happened at Levin… I worried that he would hate his nature.” 

Chrom sighs. “I - thank you for telling me all this. It does help.” 

“It seems like you care for Robin a great deal. After seeing you with Robin last night, I think you might be able to help him with all this. You and I both want to see him flourish.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Please, call me Validar,” he says, and offers his hand. Chrom takes it, and they shake, and the whole conversation feels surreal, as if it happened in a wisp of dream. 

Chrom understands, now, why Robin always acted beta, why it had felt like such a big deal when he revealed to Chrom his true designation. It explained his panic at forgetting his pills. 

“Get on up there, and talk it out,” Validar says. “Robin’s not the kind to write anyone off.” 

Chrom smiles at him, and turns to the cupboard. “I’d like to bring him a coffee,” he says, and pulls a cup down. 

~*~

Robin is dozing when there’s a delicate knock on the door. He comes awake all at once, body aching with longing. It’s too hot, much too warm, and his hair clings to his temples and forehead beneath the hood. 

He groans, and rolls onto his side. “What?” he calls. His voice is rough and foreign. 

“It’s me,” Chrom says, softly. “Can I come in?” 

Robin stares at the door. He’d assumed Chrom was long gone. His breath is shallow and sharp. There's wetness between his legs, clinging to his underpants, and he feels suddenly sick.

“Yes,” he says, more of a whimper, and hopes that Chrom can’t hear the desire. He closes his eyes so he won’t have to see Chrom’s reaction to him - so he won’t have to watch Chrom turn away. 

“I brought coffee,” Chrom says, and the door closes with a soft click. “Are you - oh.” 

Robin looks. He can’t help it. He looks up at Chrom, and Chrom is staring at him, two mugs in his hands. The stars above the bed have long since gone out, and the only light in the room is the night light in the corner. It casts Chrom’s face in silvery light, deepening the darkness under his eyes.

Robin trembles under that unblinking gaze, and to his horror, his body _reacts_ to it, tightening. 

Chrom's nostrils flare, and flare again. 

Robin curls deeper into the sweatshirt. 

“What can I do to help?” Chrom says, all at once. “Should I get your dad?” 

Robin makes a noise. “No. I… I?” 

Chrom suddenly remembers the mugs in his hands. “Oh, here… do you want this?” 

Robin sits up a bit, and Chrom comes forward. It would almost be comical, how slowly he creeps toward Robin, if it weren't also heartwrenching. 

_He doesn't want me_ , Robin thinks. He lowers his eyes when Chrom hands him the mug, fingers brushing together for a moment. Chrom retreats to the door. _He doesn't want to help, I repulse him. Look at how he shudders._

Robin sits back against the headboard and holds the too-warm mug in his sweat-slick fingers, and thinks for a moment he might be sick. His stomach churns. 

“Should I go?”

“No!” Robin can't help how fast he blurts that. He's breathing fast. He raises the cup and takes a cautious sip. It's prepared just the way he likes it, and he knows that is Chrom's doing. 

“You look-- warm,” Chrom says. “Should I turn the fan on?” 

Robin nods. He leans his head back against the headboard and listens to Chrom fumbling for the lightswitch. The ceiling light comes on, full blast, and Robin squints against it. The fan hums as it turns, and Robin lets out a sigh as the wind stirs up, brushing at his bare legs. He rubs them against the sheets, trying to find a cooler position. 

“Let me open a window, too.” Chrom crosses the room. Robin pants a bit as another wave of desire moves through him, and tries not to panic at the thought that Chrom must be opening the window because of his smell. He ducks into the collar of the sweatshirt and just breathes, tries to relax as best he can. 

“Maybe hot coffee wasn't the best idea,” Chrom mutters. “Do you still want it?”

Robin curls the mug to his chest. “It's fine,” he says. 

Chrom lowers the brilliance of the overhead light, but doesn't turn it off completely. “Can I come closer?” 

Robin looks up. Chrom is standing near the door once more, his cup of coffee forgotten on the dresser. 

“If you want.” Robin’s pleased with the indifferent tone in his voice. 

“Do _you_ want?” Chrom says. One of his hands is tightened into a fist. 

Robin gives a quick nod. 

Chrom takes a few steps closer. Robin goes back to staring into his coffee. His body senses Chrom, senses alpha, and it _wants_. He'd never expected this - he's never had a suitable alpha nearby when he went into heat, before. It's intoxicating, but he feels himself trembling. 

Robin runs his hand across his sweaty brow. Then he pats the bed beside him. 

Chrom sits on the edge. He's still too far away. Robin looks at Chrom’s hands, both fists now, curled tight in his lap. His chest rises, tight against the t-shirt. His nostrils flare. His eyes flash to Robin and then away. “That smell,” Chrom says. “It's… it's you, isn't it?” 

Robin shudders. He’s smelling the slick seeping out of Robin’s body. “Yes... Do you hate it?” Robin doesn't want to hear the answer, but at the same time he needs to. 

“Hate it?” Chrom's hands open. “No. I want to…” 

Robin meets his eyes, needing him to continue. “Want to what?” 

“I want to touch you.” 

Robin trembles so badly he spills the coffee. He curses when it splashes his legs, and Chrom reaches across and takes the cup, sets it on the nightstand. Then he turns back. “Do you think… I could?” 

Robin reaches for Chrom’s hand. It's cool, dry, and Robin raises it to his own face, pressing it to his cheek. 

Chrom hisses. “You're so hot!” But he doesn't pull away, doesn't jerk back. 

He leans in. 

Robin watches, falling into those blue eyes, calm and yet sparking with light, with promise. 

“Is this okay?” Chrom's voice is quiet, almost like a prayer. 

“Touch me,” Robin whispers. 

Chrom raises his other hand and curls it against his neck, around the back of his neck, thumb under his jaw. The hood of the sweatshirt falls away with Chrom's movement. Robin whimpers, and clings to his hand. 

“You're so warm… Is this normal?”

“Not usually… this hot.” Robin shivers, most of his attention on Chrom’s thumb, trailing down his throat. He’s coming to pieces beneath that caress, things splintering in his mind and body. He doesn’t want them to shatter, tries to gather them up. A distant part of his mind is wondering if it’s been so long since his heat that he’s forgotten how to suffer through them.

“Maybe you should…” Chrom reaches for the sweatshirt, starts to pull it down his shoulders. 

It startles Robin. He clutches the fabric to his chest, hissing and pulling back. “No!” 

Chrom freezes, and holds his hands up between them. “Okay, I won't. I won't, Robin… relax. I just want to help.” 

Robin realizes he’s acting a bit erratic, but he really doesn’t want to remove the sweatshirt. He glances at Chrom, but the alpha is staying still, close but not too close. 

Robin sinks back against the headboard, twisting one cuff in his fingers. Chrom sinks back too, hand falling to the bed between them. 

Robin looks at that hand, and imagines it all over his body, cooling the fire inside his bones. He imagines Chrom sliding it down his skin, down his back, pressing over his curves and into-- 

He takes Chrom’s hand and puts it back to his cheek. The coolness is nice. Chrom looks concerned, eyebrows knit together. A trickle of sweat runs down Robin’s back as he turns, curling his legs close. 

He runs Chrom’s knuckles along his jaw, brushes them across his forehead, and then brings the fingertips to his mouth. 

Chrom’s breath hitches. 

Robin watches, fascinated, as he nibbles at Chrom’s fingers. Chrom’s pupils bleed black into blue. 

The smell… Robin sucks in a sharp breath, through his mouth, off the thin skin over Chrom’s wrist. If Chrom’s scent was nice before the kiss, it is heavenly now. His eyes roll up into his head, an involuntary noise ripping from his throat. 

“Robin.” Chrom's voice has dropped at least an octave. “Robin, look at me.” 

He does, raising his head to meet those blue eyes. He could drown in those eyes, in that look, and he wants to. He runs his lips across Chrom’s palm, but keeps looking. 

“You're…” Chrom’s throat bobs. He gently lowers his hand, but keeps Robin’s tight in it. The cuff is bunched up at Robin's wrist, his whole hand exposed to Chrom's. “You're going into heat. Do you want me to be here? Because I do, oh, _gods_ , I want to be here and help you. But if you don't… just say the word.” 

Robin's mouth parts. Chrom has cut to the heart of it, washed some heat-haze from his mind. He tests Chrom's words against the longing in his body, against the sharp edges in his chest. He looks at Chrom for a long time. They’ve been through a lot, so many tests and frantic study sessions and panicked presentations… this is something completely different, but out of everyone in the world, he wants it to be Chrom.

If what he says is true...

“Chrom, stay with me.” 

~*~ 

Chrom inspects Robin’s eyes, searching for awareness, for the understanding of what he’s asking. And he’s fairly certain he sees it, only… what if this is too much? What if Robin doesn’t really want this, deep inside? 

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking?” he presses. 

Robin leans in, pressing his forehead to Chrom’s bicep. His skin emanates warmth and scent. Omega - omega - _omega_ in heat. It pulses through Chrom’s veins, calling to him. 

Robin breathes out. “I’m going into heat. I’m asking you to stay and _help_ me.” 

Chrom's chest aches to hear the crack and tension in Robin's voice. “I will. Whatever you need, I'll be here with you. I'll help.” 

“I’ve never… done this with an alpha before.” 

Goosebumps rise on Chrom’s back, down his spine. Robin sounds hesitant, and the way he won’t look at Chrom, right now, is troubling, but his words ring with truth and trust. 

Chrom reaches in, and turns Robin’s face toward his. The look Robin gives him is hard to take, part need and part fear. His delicious scent is laced with discomfort. “I’ve never helped anyone with a heat before. But I want to help you. I…” His heart races, and he swallows with a dry throat. “I care so much for you.” 

Robin’s gold eyes reflect in the light, wide, but paying attention. “You do?” His voice is so small. 

“I like you, Robin. I like you _a lot_.” 

Robin smiles. He _smiles_ , and Chrom’s heart makes a valiant leap out of his chest, out of his throat and through the ceiling, and for a moment he feels weightless. 

“How much?” Robin asks, and his smile widens. 

Chrom leans in, and Robin tilts his head. 

He tastes different from last time, the bitterness of coffee mingling not unpleasantly with the sharp saltiness of his sweat. Underneath all of it, the scent of his heat beckons Chrom closer. 

Chrom forces himself not to deepen the kiss, not yet, savoring Robin's lips and the brush of noses and cheeks. One of Robin's hands finds its way into his hair, curling around his skull, fingers splayed and dug in deep. 

Robin's kiss is unlike anything Chrom’s experienced before. He kisses urgently, but with a level of reserve that speaks to inexperience. He comes up for breath often, panting against Chrom's skin. He makes a desperate noise when Chrom pulls away, and moves to follow. 

Chrom draws him down the bed with him, so they can lay flat. Robin’s t-shirt slides up beneath the sweatshirt, exposing a swathe of skin above the waistband of his boyshorts. Chrom glances down Robin’s body, sees all the bare skin, but doesn’t touch. There’s a pattern in his body, urging him toward Robin, to touch every bare place, but he doesn’t. There's a pattern in Robin that isn't ready, jagged and raw.

He presses Robin to the bed and comes in for another kiss, rising onto an elbow. He deepens the kiss this time, adding a bit of tongue. Robin clings to him, making more breathless noises. 

When Chrom pulls away this time, Robin stays there. His eyes are slow to open, and slower to focus, the heat taking hold. That sharp wrongness has lessened in his scent, but it’s still there. 

“Are you too warm?” Chrom asks. “Do you want to take off the sweatshirt?” 

Robin presses his lips together, nostrils flaring with breath. He shakes his head, looking away. Sweat beads on his forehead. One hand holds the sweatshirt close, as if Chrom might try and steal it. 

_Protect him!_ Chrom’s alpha screams. Robin is suffering, that much is apparent - but if he were to just pull it off, Robin might hate him for it. 

“It’s very hot in here,” Chrom says, and sits up. “Would you mind if I take my shirt off?” 

Robin relaxes, and shakes his head, still holding the sweatshirt close. 

Chrom reaches for his own hem, and tugs the shirt up and over. When he looks back, Robin is staring with a look that Chrom can only describe as hunger. “You can touch, if you want,” Chrom says, hopeful.

Robin puts a hand to his own mouth for a moment, and then extends it slowly out. It trembles. He touches the skin right above Chrom’s heart, just his fingertips, and then spreads his hand. “You’re soft and warm,” he says. 

“Not as warm as you.” Chrom is sitting above Robin, leaning over him, and Robin is perfectly content with lying on his back, sweatshirt rucked up past his navel. Chrom smiles at him, pleased with his reaction to him.

Robin’s other hand goes to Chrom’s bicep, and Chrom flexes beneath it. Then Robin comes up onto his elbows. “Can I… scent you?” 

“Of course,” Chrom says, internally preening. 

Robin goes right for the spot where blood thunders through his artery. He breathes in, hands going around Chrom, and then goes slack, drawing Chrom back to the bed with him. Chrom comes onto his knees beside Robin. 

Robin arches, exposing his own neck, an unsubtle, beautiful offering, and Chrom leans in before he thinks about whether he _should_. He presses his mouth and nose to Robin’s throat and breathes in. He makes a soft little growl, deep in his throat, and bares his teeth against Robin’s neck. Robin gasps out his name, and then whimpers. “I want, Chrom, I need you…” 

“Shhh, I’m here,” Chrom whispers. 

“Chrom, Chrom, _please_.” He pants and arches onto his tiptoes, and the scent of _slick_ curls around them. Chrom feels himself grow even harder than he was, _aching_ for it. “I, I, I…” Robin is clinging to him now, exhaling syllables against Chrom's temple. “Chrom - Chrom...” 

Chrom sits up, gently holds Robin down, caressing his too-warm cheek. “I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you. We’re going to get through this together. Breathe. Good, take another. Slower, with me. Breathe in… breathe out.” 

Robin blinks up at Chrom, and winds his hands around his bare arm. “It’s too intense… It never felt this strong before.” 

“It’s been a while for you,” Chrom says comfortingly. “And… it might be because I’m here.” 

“Don’t go,” Robin whispers. 

“The only reason I will leave is if you tell me to,” Chrom promises. “I’m here.” And he lowers down to kiss Robin, as Robin twines his fingers through Chrom’s hair. 

~*~

It’s hard to think, hard to _breathe_ , with Chrom’s scent around him and the rising tension in his body. He’s leaking slick, and sometimes he smells it, which means Chrom can smell it too… does he hate it? Does he notice? 

Robin relaxes into another kiss, running his hands all over Chrom’s bare torso, his shoulder. There’s a tattoo on his upper arm, that Robin’s only seen a few times, and Robin really wants to kiss it, but Chrom keeps stopping him before he can sit up. 

He’s dizzy, and his head pounds intermittently, and sometimes it feels like he’s aflame, burning away, a wick of candle with just a bit of fleshy wax surrounding it. 

After minutes, or hours, of kissing, Chrom lifts off of Robin and helps him to sit up. He grabs Chrom as the room sways, moaning softly. His body aches, especially between his legs, and sitting up doesn’t help with that. 

Chrom kisses his hair, and his sweaty temple, and then whispers, “Would you take off your sweatshirt? Just for a minute. If you don’t like it you can put it back on. I just… I think you’re going to overheat.” 

Robin blinks up at him, fingers curling around the strings. “I don’t… Chrom…” 

“Please. Just for a moment.” 

“A-alright.” 

Chrom lowers his arms. His cheek is pressed to Robin’s temple, meant to be comforting. “I’m right here,” Chrom repeats again, and smiles encouragingly when Robin glances up. 

Robin slowly works the zipper down, and then slides the sweatshirt from his shoulders. His skin is tacky with sweat, and it gets stuck, but he squirms, and finally his arms pop free of it. His shoulders are curled, and he ducks into Chrom’s bare chest, wraps his arms around it, and draws in a few deep breaths. 

It’s not that big a deal, he tells himself. It’s not like Chrom is taking the sweatshirt back, that he’s never going to let Robin be wrapped up in it again. The air feels cool against the skin of his arms, where his t-shirt clings to his moist torso, and Chrom’s body is relatively chilly too. He trembles, not quite a shiver. 

“Are you okay, Robin?” 

“Mmm?” He buries his face in Chrom’s chest, resting his eyes against his collarbone. “Need a minute…” 

“Take your time. I’ll be right here,” Chrom whispers, and it’s so unexpectedly _nice_ that tears prickle at Robin’s eyes. His hand brushes against Robin’s hair, trailing down the ridges at the back of his neck. And then, hesitantly, further. 

Heat rushes through his body as Chrom’s fingers move down his spine, and he tosses his head. “Ah!” 

Chrom freezes. 

“Again,” Robin whimpers. “Please--”

Chrom does, but he doesn’t stop part way this time. He continues until his fingers brush against bare skin at the bottom of his shirt, right above the waistband of his shorts, tracing a lazy circle. “Like this?” Chrom breathes, holding him close. 

Robin twitches like a live wire. That simple touch has him shattering again, groaning. 

Chrom holds him close, whispering in his ear: “Robin, Robin, you're amazing, gods, you smell so good…” He punctuates this with another healthy sniff, nose in his hair. 

Robin wants more skin on skin contact, as if shucking the sweatshirt has opened the floodgates. He wants Chrom to touch him all over, needs _more_. He whines and struggles briefly with his own shirt, fumbling with fingers that don't want to work right, and he's still sitting up and every shift is putting pressure between his legs… 

“Breathe,” Chrom whispers, “Breathe, Robin.” 

Chrom stops him when the collar rips. He twines their fingers together, nuzzles his temple. “Slow, Robin. We have all the time in the world. I'm right here.” 

“It hurts,” he says, although that's not the right word for it. It demands. It craves, and Robin only wants to satisfy it. “Please, Chrom…” He doesn't know exactly what he's asking for. 

Chrom helps him get the shirt off, and as soon as he's free of the offending fabric, he pulls Chrom back to the sheets with him. Chrom catches himself with hands on either side of Robin's face, nose inches from Robin's, and one knee hastily thrown between Robin's for balance. Robin pulls him in for a kiss. When he breaks away, gasping for breath, Chrom rubs his shoulder. “Relax, relax,” he's saying. “You're good, I've got you.” 

Robin smiles at Chrom. “I'm glad,” he blurts. “I'm so glad you're here.” 

Chrom kisses the tip of Robin's nose. 

~*~ 

Chrom feels so much better when Robin finally removes the sweatshirt. He is content to hold Robin, and let things happen as slowly as possible. Of course, a part of him wants to rip all of their remaining clothes off and have his way with Robin, but he's a gentleman and he won't do that. 

Now that he's free of the sweatshirt, Robin could use some water. Chrom doesn't remember seeing a glass, which is a little strange since he thought Robin took his suppressants right when Chrom got home. There's a spare water bottle in his laptop case, but that's across the room, and with how clingy Robin is, he's not sure how that attempt will go. 

Robin whimpers in his ear again, practically climbing his way up Chrom's body. 

He could experience Robin like this forever, and never grow bored, all the microexpressions and small movements communicating a larger statement, a conglomeration of need and desire and hope. Only a trace of that scared scent remains, like the lingering waft of burnt toast in a kitchen for hours afterwards.

“It hurts,” Robin says again, which catches Chrom's attention.

“What hurts?” 

Robin blinks up at him, and squirms, and Chrom realizes what he means by the way his eyes go briefly soft. Chrom trembles as he understands. 

He's no stranger to sex, although he wasn't lying when he told Robin he'd never been with an omega in heat. He's seen that look in others, occasionally, and always less intense, but he recognizes it for what it is - desire. The fact that it hurts, that is Robin’s heat. 

“Please…” Robin's voice is raw. 

“Let me get you some water,” Chrom says. But when he goes to slip from the bed, Robin makes a lunge for his arm, pulling him close with surprising strength. 

“Don't go,” he whispers. 

“I'm not,” Chrom says. “Can you walk, then? I just want to grab some water.” 

With Robin clinging to him, mostly naked and sweating, barely steady on his own feet, Chrom makes it to his bag, secures the water bottle, and then returns them both to the bed. 

Robin makes a little noise as Chrom draws him up to sit again, squirming. “It hurts, Chrom…”

“Just drink a little water first.” Chrom presses the bottle to Robin's hands. 

He drinks, and the fine line of his throat works, and Chrom has to dig his fingernails into his own leg to keep from diving in. He's beautiful, and the _smell_ … Chrom doesn't know how he will survive this, how he will be able to ever step away from the furnace of Robin's body. 

He doesn't want to. 

Robin hands back the water bottle, half full, and Chrom twists the cap on. He makes certain to place it on the nightstand where he can find it again. Then he returns his full attention to Robin. He smooths his hand down his spine, turning Robin into a shuddering mess, and then lays him down. 

“Can I touch you?” Chrom asks. 

Robin runs a finger between Chrom's eyebrows, tracing the long line of his nose. “Yes,” he says, so trusting, so open to Chrom. 

Chrom kisses him, and slides his hand down Robin's front, along his flat stomach, and then to the waistband of his shorts. He runs his fingers along the waistband, giving Robin plenty of time to stop him. Robin's legs come up, as if protecting himself, but he doesn't move Chrom away, or make any indication that he wants Chrom to stop. He groans, deep in his throat, and holds him close. 

Chrom finds the outline of Robin's erection in the fabric, so firm that Chrom's gives a little pulse of sympathy. Robin squeaks and throws his head, fingers digging into Chrom's skin. He goes so still that if not for the near-vibrating tension, Chrom might think he fainted. 

“Breathe,” Chrom says, and Robin sucks in sharply. 

“Chrom,” Robin gasps, hooking one foot around the back of Chrom's knee, as if trying to pull him over the top of him. “Chrom, Chrom…” 

“I'm right here,” Chrom says. He moves his fingers, feeling along every inch. It's smaller than his own, which is to be expected, but larger than others he's had over the years. He licks his lips. “Alright, Robin?” 

Robin whimpers. “Yes, Chrom, yes, I want - I need… Please…” 

When Chrom looks at Robin, his golden eyes are squinted mostly closed. His face is so red, partially from the sunburn and partially from his heat, but he doesn't look quite so peaked as he did earlier. When Chrom brushes his hair from his forehead, Robin's eyes close all the way and he makes a soft noise. 

He smells almost perfect. Chrom can't help but stare at his face, at the subtle reactions when Chrom's fingers twitch or caress along his cock. Chrom's chest swells with longing, with affection. 

He shifts his hand off his erection and onto his thigh, fingers curled around almost to the edge of the boyshorts. Robin breathes, and breathes, gasping at first and then, as seconds pass, steadying out. 

Chrom kisses his jaw and works his way down, over that spot where his heated scent is strongest. 

He mouths at it, with just his lips first. He stops himself from biting at the last moment, the urge almost overwhelming. Robin's throat bobs beneath his lips, hands weakly at his bicep and neck, hanging on as if for dear life. 

Robin whimpers Chroms name, and it’s a plea. 

_Not yet_ , Chrom thinks, and instead licks along Robin's neck. Robin shudders, and pulls with his heel against Chrom's thigh, trying again to get Chrom on top, but Chrom resists. He works his way down Robin's neck, to his collarbones, and then moves down. 

He presses his teeth against his flat, soft stomach, a half-feral, all-alpha move - and Robin whines, hands going to his head, but not to move him away from that vulnerable spot. He works his fingers into Chrom's hair, allowing him to stay there as long as he wants. Chrom laves his belly button with his tongue - Robin squirms - and then moves lower. He buries his face in the top of Robin's underpants, breathing deep with his mouth. It's musty and strong, growing ever stronger as he moves down. 

Robin has stopped breathing again, a sort of choked _waiting_. 

“Breathe,” Chrom orders. 

Robin gasps, and then moans loud. Chrom glances up. Robin's head is thrown back, one hand over his mouth, the other gripping the sheets by his hip. 

Chrom glances down, and then cannot resist any longer. He buries his face in the fabric covering Robin's groin, and breathes in. 

Robin cries out, and his hips move up, until he's practically grinding against Chrom's face. Chrom curls his hands beneath Robin and holds him down against the bed, wanting more control, needing to feel Robin's body working against him. “Robin,” he growls. “Robin, look at me.” 

Robin raises his head, up on one elbow, and looks. Chrom leans his cheek against one warm thigh, and makes certain Robin is focused. 

“I want to mark you,” he says, which isn't quite what he meant to say. 

Robin's eyes widen, and then he moans, low and slow. “Yes,” he says, and one bare foot sweeps around to press into Chrom's back, drawing him closer. “Yes, Chrom, _yes_.” 

Chrom leans into the tender skin on the inside of Robin's thigh, and bites. Robin shudders, and keens soft in the back of his throat. The smell of heat, of lust, of desire and _slick_ , floods Chrom’s nose, so close to the source that it tenses parts low in his body. Robin's flesh is warm, his skin unbroken, and as Chrom pulls back and admires his handiwork, a pair of curved red marks stand halfway between the crease of his hip and his knee. 

Robin's leg trembles, and his fingers run along the bite mark. His golden eyes are wild, need pooling in them. He looks at Chrom's mark, and at Chrom. 

Chrom shifts up, across his groin, and to his opposite hip bone, rubbing his cheek against it in silent question. His movement draws the waistband down an inch, exposing the lovely curve of soft skin over hard bone. 

“Yes,” Robin says, almost a prayer. 

Chrom bites down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's part one of the sexy times. I don't like leaving it HERE but this feels like an okay stopping point. (And I didn't want to post a 10k word chapter, much as some of you might have preferred it!) Next chapter to come out soon, hopefully. There's one smallish scene to write and some edits to happen, and with my original fiction draft 2 on a ROLL, I'm able to take more time for editing fanfic on the side.  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! (As always, with this fic - THANK YOU KRISTIN for the motivation to continue writinggggg <3)


	5. Chapter 5

That first bite takes Robin far away from his body, to a place he’s never been before despite having heats since he was thirteen. It’s like his body has been partially inhabited by someone else, a half-feral animal. Need crests inside of him, and the desire has a voice, and it speaks: _Chrom_. 

When he touches the mark Chrom left on his leg, he sees Chrom’s pleasure. He feels it - Chrom wanted to mark him, to leave a sign of his being here, to tether Robin to his body. It pleases both of them to watch his skin darken. 

Chrom really does want to help him through this. 

Chrom bites his hip next. Vaguely, Robin feels the pinch, almost a pain. It stokes the fires inside of him. He groans and arches. Without thinking, he pulls Chrom up, angling his head and stretching his neck. Baring it to Chrom. _Bite my neck, bite me, I want it…_

“Not yet.” Chrom bites the flesh of his shoulder instead. 

Robin gasps, and spreads his legs. He shifts down to straddle Chrom's knee, and then grinds his ass against it, mewling at the sudden friction. 

He needs, he needs, he needs… but there's too much fabric in the way. 

Chrom grips his hips, holding him still - Robin struggles against him, whining - and then presses his knee against Robin's most sensitive parts. 

Sensation explodes through him. 

“Chrom, Chrom! Please,” Robin begs, grasping at his hands. “Please…” Chrom grinds in, all that friction and warmth and skin. “Please, Chrom, need more, it hurts…” 

Chrom pulls away. He slides down until his shoulders are between Robin's knees, pressing them apart. The sticky fabric loosens from Robin's groin, and at Chrom's gentle prodding, he raises his hips. Cool air hits his asshole, and he covers his suddenly-burning face at the wave of scent rising from him. 

He will leave, Chrom will leave for certain now...

But instead of turning away in disgust, Chrom leans in and _scents_ him. 

Robin gasps as Chrom’s lips brush against his puckering asshole, the tip of his tongue a reminder of their earlier kiss. 

And then, without any hesitation, Chrom slips his mouth up and takes Robin's cock in his mouth. 

Robin’s hips buck - he doesn’t mean to, but the involuntary reaction at the warmth and _wet_ of Chrom’s mouth is impossible to control. During his prior heats, he’d used substitutes, but mostly of an alpha knot in his asshole. His dick never wanted that much friction, and he’d made do with just his hand. 

The sensation is indescribable. Robin has no idea _what_ Chrom is doing, only that it’s amazing and _perfect_. 

“Chrom! Oh gods, _Chrom_ \--” He is touching Chrom’s hair and shifting upward, and Chrom has to hold his hips in place, and it feels so good, so _warm_. Robin whines, and thrashes against Chrom's unyielding hands, and burns _._ Chrom's mouth - his touch - Robin is lost to it. 

After an unknown time, Chrom pulls away. Robin makes a slow protest, his body languid and ready. Chrom takes one of Robin’s legs over his shoulder and slides back to his hole, which is oozing slick almost constantly. Robin’s body is a twitchy pile of nerve-endings and need, and he isn’t ready for what comes next. 

Chrom’s tongue finds his hole and presses in. 

Robin cries out, eyes flying open to stare at the slowly-spinning ceiling fan, the faint stars stuck to the ceiling. Is Chrom…?

Chrom is sticking his tongue inside of him.

“Fuuuuck,” Robin groans, dragging out the word. 

Chrom hums, which does all sorts of amazing things to Robin’s asshole, and then something a bit firmer than his tongue is pressing into him. It’s only when knuckles press against his body that he realizes - that is a finger. 

Chrom says, “Robin, look at me,” with such a command in his tone that Robin is powerless to resist. He sits up, chest heaving, and watches. 

Chrom raises his finger and licks the slick off of it, sucking on it like a lollipop, caving his cheeks. 

Robin stops breathing, aware of exactly what Chrom is showing him - that he _loves_ it. He loves Robin’s slick, enough to suck it from his fingers. 

Chrom inserts his finger inside Robin again, watching rapturously as Robin clenches around it. With his finger still inside, he crawls up Robin’s body and wraps his other hand around the back of his neck. Chrom kisses him, and Robin tastes himself in Chrom’s mouth, sweet and slightly salty. He whimpers, and tries to keep Chrom close. Chrom's finger twists inside of him, sending jolts of pleasure radiating out. Robin's arms loosen from around Chrom's shoulders. After a few seconds, Chrom breaks the kiss and travels back down. 

Robin is floating on the sensations, on the knowledge that Chrom likes this, likes his body in heat. As he touches him and licks at Robin’s hole, he’s not disgusted. His pleasure at tasting Robin is real, and for some reason it makes Robin want to cry. 

His chest heaves. His eyes prickle. He's _not_ going to cry. 

Chrom breathes against his asshole, “Easy, Robin, I’ve got you.” 

Tears slip from his eyes. Robin makes an awful croaking noise, and then gasps as Chrom dives back in, edging his tongue in between two fingers, spreading Robin open. His fingers caress a spot deep inside that has Robin spiralling out of his _mind_.

He doesn’t even have to touch Robin’s cock, and Robin is coming. 

It creeps up on him, all at once, so urgent that Robin doesn’t have time to register more than a hint of surprise - orgasm crests over him. His body lights up, passion and energy building in every corner. He whimpers and groans, hand over his mouth to keep from screaming, which is what he really wants to do. 

It washes Robin away, carried home on the caress of Chrom’s fingers and tongue. 

~*~

Robin’s orgasm is unexpected, his whole body tensing up around Chrom’s fingers. Chrom doesn't question it. He continues exactly what he was doing, rolling his tongue along the rim, fingers spreading deep inside. Robin's slick is sweet and delicious. He keeps up his unrelenting pressure until those muffled sounds change in intensity, until Robin goes limp, his scent momentarily changing to absolute bliss.

Chrom watches, enraptured, fingers stilling deep inside. Robin’s eyelids flutter as his hands curl and uncurl on the sheets. His body is no longer sweating as much, freed of all that heavy fabric. His skin is radiant, almost luminous, and Chrom can't resist running his hands over all of it. The scent rising off him is finally pure, and it's so beautiful Chrom has to keep from scenting him. He doesn't know if he can resist biting his neck, not when he's smelling like _that_. 

He holds Robin close, wraps his legs and arms around him, combing fingers through his hair, until Robin's golden eyes open. “Chrom,” he whispers, and there's some awareness in them. 

“That was incredible,” Chrom says. 

Robin squirms and smiles. “Really?” 

“You're amazing,” Chrom says, and nuzzles into Robin's cheek. “Stay right here, I'm going to close the window.” 

Chrom doesn't want to leave the furnace of Robin's body, and every second makes it exponentially harder to. But when the sun rises, the Plegian heat will be overwhelming.

“One second,” he says, and disentangles himself. 

Chrom closes the window, the sound loud in the room, almost loud enough to cover Robin's mounting moan of protest. 

When Chrom turns back to the bed… Robin is presenting to him, on his hands and knees, back arched. He can taste Robin on the air, slick and heated desire mingled together. Robin peeks over his shoulder at him, something bright and welcoming and a little self-conscious in his eyes. 

Chrom _growls_ \- he can't help it. His alpha knows what it wants. 

He finds himself kneeling behind Robin. Between one breath and the next, he's got Robin's hips in his hands, and leans over him, settling his own legs around Robin's. He growls against Robin's neck, and Robin shudders and gasps his name. Chrom cages Robin in, pressing his chest to the bed, ass up, and the only thing keeping him from penetrating Robin right then and there is his underwear. He grinds his cock against Robin, as the wetness seeps into the fabric, and Chrom _wants_. 

He growls again when Robin shifts back against him. Chrom holds him forcibly still, although it hurts him to do so. “Robin,” he says, voice dragging. “Robin, can I…” 

Robin looks over his shoulder with smoldering eyes and growls back, wordlessly. But Chrom needs an answer, won't continue without one. Chrom holds them both still until Robin finally says, “I want you to _knot_ me.” 

The words are brazen, demanding. Chrom's breath hitches and he thrusts his hips against Robin, and they groan together. 

Chrom wraps an arm around Robin's torso and pulls him onto his knees. Robin leans back against him, whining. Chrom reaches for his own sleep pants and tugs his erection free, then breathes deep from Robin's neck. 

His scent is pure, sweet, no hint of hesitation or worry. He wants this. 

Robin grinds back against Chrom. Chrom can't tell if Robin's trying to get Chrom inside, or simply reaching for whatever feels good, but Chrom needs to control it. He needs to make this wonderful for them both. 

“Relax,” he says, holding Robin close. “Stop squirming, stop fighting me.”

Robin rolls his head on Chrom's shoulder, soft lashes brushing against Chrom's neck. “Please,” he says, but stops struggling. His fingernails dig into Chrom’s arm. He's so pliant that it almost scares Chrom. If Robin were with any other alpha during his heat… 

He growls, and Robin gives an answering sound.

Chrom lowers him back to the bed, preparing himself for the sensation, trying to keep from losing himself too much in it. 

As he enters Robin, he realizes that no amount of mental readiness would ever be enough. Chrom whimpers at the deliciousness, the way Robin's body welcomes him in. Robin is tight and lubricated, warmer inside than out. He tenses around Chrom’s cock, and then lets him in, a slow easy glide. His breaths come in fast sharp pants. Chrom tugs on his hips experimentally, and Robin moans, hands curled in the sheets. 

It's perfect. Robin is perfect beneath him. The base of Chrom’s cock throbs, a dull precursor to his knot swelling. It won't be very long, and while he would rather make it last, another part of him realizes that they have days of this ahead of them. 

He nips at the top of Robin's spine, the protruding knob. Robin's quick intake is sharp, and his body tightens on Chrom's cock. 

“Robin, you feel so good,” Chrom whispers, and kisses his spine. 

Robin makes a pleased hum.

Chrom continues to press slowly in, opening Robin on his cock. Robin gets more and more agitated, his breaths sharper, his body eager to please and be pleased. 

_I'm the first to ever do this for him_ , Chrom thinks, in awe at the gift Robin has unknowingly given him. He's had vague fantasies about Robin here and there, mostly during his ruts, but this blows them all out of the water like the world's worst game of Battleship. It's all so real - _Robin_ is so real. 

He sheathes himself fully, and Robin groans.

“Alright?” Chrom asks.

Robin nods. “More,” he demands, turning to look at him from one eye. “Want more.”

Chrom gives him more. He pulls out completely - Robin protests, throwing his head in alarm - and thrusts in, a continuous long stroke. 

The noise that Robin makes as he bottoms out is raw and beautiful. Something is building inside of Chrom's chest, an awful bright thing. When Robin shifts back to meet his next thrust, it only intensifies. 

“Robin,” he says, “Robin!” 

They find a rhythm, punctuated by Robin's ever-louder moans and Chrom's panted breaths. Robin meets him, and grips him tight, and Chrom holds onto his hips and lets their bodies find new, familiar patterns together. 

His knot threatens to expand, and he leans in, breath hot on Robin's skin. He's knotted someone once before, during rut, but this feels the opposite of that. His chest hitches with the dual need to claim and protect. “Robin,” he gasps. "The knot - I -” The urge to keep rolling his hips is overwhelming, but he falters. 

Robin looks back at him with a slightly glazed eye, given over to pleasure, and then deliberately angles his head to put his pulse-point beneath Chrom's gasping mouth. 

Chrom doesn't think - he smells it, and bites down. 

It's what Robin wants, his body instinctively knowing what it needs to accept the knot. Being bitten there will cause a temporary loosening of all muscles, a wave of pleasure and endorphins moving through him. Chrom's been told it's blissful, almost as good as an orgasm. 

Robin gives a breathless “ _ahhh,”_ and Chrom's almost-full knot thrusts in past that tight curl of muscle. 

Robin's pheromones are driving Chrom wild, tingling in his tongue, rushing into his brain. The taste of him radiates strong and delicious. 

Chrom pulls out. Robin moans weakly, with his neck still within Chrom's gentle, insistent teeth. 

Everything is mounting, rising, unfurling inside of Chrom. He thrusts back in one last time. His knot expands, locking them together, and then he's coming, seed spurting hot from his dick. 

The next few moments are fractured light and sensation: Robin's hole contracting around his cock; the scent, in his nostrils and teeth and everywhere their skin touches; a bright sound of pure ecstasy from Robin's throat, as he joins Chrom in orgasm; Robin's fingers finding Chrom’s on his hip. 

Chrom comes down gradually, and rolls them onto their sides in a gasping heap. “Alright, Robin?” he asks. 

“Mmmmm,” Robin agrees, eyes closed. He’s got one of Chrom’s hands in his own, fingers woven between. Chrom sees a faint smile curving his cheek. He buries his face behind Robin's ear as another orgasm builds and crashes down. 

Salty tears run down his cheeks, and he wipes his face on the sheets. 

“Are you… crying?” Robin whispers, still smiling. 

“No… Maybe.” He gives a little chuckle, and Robin does too. 

Robin reaches back and cups his face, thumb streaking tears along his skin. “Chrom… thank you.” Robin squeezes on his knot, deliberately, and it short-circuits Chrom’s brain. 

“It is - an honor,” Chrom chokes out, as yet another orgasm rides through. 

When he can draw breath again, he wraps his arms around Robin, aligning their bodies. Robin almost purrs, dazed and pleased - his scent, both of their scents, are happy, starting to mingle together. 

Robin’s mother will be pleased with that, Chrom thinks. 

“Can you sleep?” he whispers. “You should try. There won’t be much time for it later.” 

Robin hardly glances back, only nuzzles into Chrom’s hand, curled against his cheek. “I’ll try,” he mutters, and from the sound of it, he’s halfway there. 

Chrom watches over him as he drifts into sleep. 

~*~

The knock at the door has Robin falling awake. He rolls toward the door, only to bump into something. For a moment, he’s disoriented, caught between unremembered dreams and warm reality. He blinks into Chrom’s blue eyes, his soft skin a balm against Robin's. 

It hits him again - Chrom is helping him through his heat, _wants_ to be here with him. He smiles. Chrom’s knotted him three times so far, and each time was more pleasurable than the last. They are in the drowsy minutes between need, before his heat comes raging back. He should be sleeping, but something woke him...

“Shh,” Chrom whispers, and kisses his temple. “I’ll get it.” Robin falls into the indent Chrom leaves in the pillow. Chrom’s scent is everywhere, sinking into his skin. It relaxes parts of him, and riles others. He groans softly, and reaches for Chrom’s hand. 

“I’m right here,” Chrom says, and caresses his forehead. Robin closes his eyes. A sheet settles over him, and beyond the bed, there’s the sound of fabric. 

Another knock at the door, and his name, called softly. 

His father, he realizes. But Chrom gets to the door before Robin can do more than open his eyes. Chrom is wearing his sleep pants once more. 

If Validar is surprised to see Chrom in here, he doesn’t show it. He shouldn’t be, Robin realizes, remembering the farce as if it happened in another lifetime. 

Validar’s dark eyes find Robin, assessing from a distance. “Alright, Robin?” he asks, ignoring Chrom. 

Robin nods. 

“Be sure he drinks enough,” Validar tells Chrom, with just a hint of command. 

Chrom straightens, and the sight of all that bare torso draws Robin’s attention - alpha, yes, but also precious to Robin. He hasn’t explored every inch of him to his own heart’s content, and he needs to. But Chrom doesn’t lash out at his father, doesn’t snap something back. 

“I’ll take good care of him,” he promises. 

Robin smiles into the pillow, trying not to show his reaction. But he likes the sound of that, and it’s not just his omega-side coming out. Chrom _has_ been taking very good care of him, forcing him to drink, making certain he’s comfortable in everything. 

“I know you will,” Validar says, softly. “Thank you. And Robin - if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me. I’ll be listening.” 

“Dad,” Robin groans into the pillow. He’s glad he won’t remember this in a few minutes, when his body’s needs rise again. He does feel _safe_ here in his parents’ house… but they are still his parents. 

The door closes. Chrom slips into bed, and Robin draws him close. 

“At least it wasn’t my mom,” Robin says, plucking at Chrom’s pants. Chrom lifts his hips and slides the fabric off, and Robin cuddles up against him. 

“Do you want to eat anything?” Chrom offers some bacon from a plate on the nightstand. Validar must have brought it - but the scent turns Robin’s stomach. 

“I told you, I don’t eat during my heat.” Robin draws Chrom’s hand to his face, scenting his wrist. “You eat, though. You need your strength.” 

Chrom pops a whole piece of bacon in his mouth and crunches down. “You ready to go?” 

“Not yet. Just… hold me?” 

Chrom slithers his arm beneath Robin and pulls him close, chewing contentedly. Robin rubs his cheek against the curve of Chrom’s chest. His heat is coming to life again, but during the first day he usually has a bit of time between urges. And, if he’s being truthful, being knotted by Chrom is much more satisfying than silicone, no matter if the shape is the same. They’d told him that a physical partner is so much better than going it alone, but he hadn’t understood until now. 

He shudders with anticipation, at thinking about Chrom’s knot, at how deliciously it filled him. He throws a leg over Chrom and climbs on. 

Chrom drops the bacon to the plate and brings his hands to Robin’s hips. His erection presses between Robin’s asscheeks as Robin settles back, but it doesn’t enter him yet. 

There's a bite mark flared red on Chrom's neck. Robin barely remembers giving it to him, barely remembers why - but it doesn't matter why. In the moment it felt right. He runs his fingers along it, tracing the curves of his throat. There'll be a whole matching set on Chrom's neck by the time he's done. Chrom wore it in front of Robin's father, showing it off. 

Chrom smiles up at him, adoringly, and runs his hands up his sides and along Robin’s chest. Robin winces and bucks. “Alright?” Chrom asks, thumb going to the edge of one of his bite marks at the edge of his ribcage. “Did I hurt you?” 

Robin takes Chrom’s hand and presses it to his chest, to a nipple. “I’m… a little tender.” 

Chrom’s eyes fill with compassion. “Should I avoid them?” 

“It feels good… like the bites. Just, be careful.” 

Chrom gently rubs his fingers along Robin’s chest and finds his nipples. Robin arches and whimpers, and the heavy scent of slick fills the room as he leaks onto Chrom’s erection, pressed so close. 

Chrom’s nostrils flare and he licks his lips, and Robin can’t hold back anymore. He leans down and kisses him, moaning. The angle changes, and with a twist of his hips, Robin settles back onto his cock. 

Chrom presses him down fully when he falters, breathing soft sweet nothings into his neck. 

Robin swears he hears Chrom say, “I love you,” before his heat sweeps him away. 

~*~

Robin wakes to a different kind of warmth, external rather than emanating outward. His cheek is pressed against a soft but firm pillow. It moves beneath him, slow, rhythmic, and he snuggles closer. Arms move around him. Fingers curl up the back of his neck, spreading through his mussed hair. 

The scent rising around him - around them - is a bit peaked, but also, somehow, soothing. He draws a deep breath and sighs it out. 

His heat is done. 

“Morning,” a low voice rumbles through his cheek. 

Robin tilts his head - it’s too much effort to even raise it. His limbs are slack, his whole body wrought and wrung out. He tilts off that warm chest, and looks up past a soft smile into blue, sleepy eyes. 

Chrom. 

He smiles back, and then closes his eyes. Chrom hums, gentle, and his fingers comb through Robin’s hair again. 

Thoughts and memory return in small patches, blossoming like a time-lapsed field of flowers. His heat - Chrom helping him through it - his father’s gentle approval - the panic he’d felt at removing Chrom’s sweatshirt - a sweltering, uncomfortable conversation with his mother in the attic… 

Robin curls in against Chrom, and gasps as his body reminds him of precisely what he and Chrom had been _doing_ for the past - however many _days_. His body remembers Chrom inside of him, and the sensation is less pain and more sweet surprise. 

“Alright?” Chrom asks instantly. 

“Just - sore,” Robin says, and throws his arm further across Chrom’s chest, keeping him close. 

He’s suddenly very aware of their nakedness, of the sheet crumpled across their bodies, of all the points their skin touches. But he doesn’t - mind it, exactly. It feels very nice. 

And if his memories are to be trusted, they’ve explored every inch of skin between the two of them. Chrom kisses his temple, holding him close. Robin melts into it, slackening every muscle until he’s laying partially on top of Chrom. He drifts in a half-sleep, letting things settle into place. Perhaps it’s because it’s been three years since his last heat, but Robin doesn’t remember it being _this_ intense. He’s surprised at the things he did, at the things he _asked_ for, surprised, too, by the way Chrom gave and gave and gave, without asking anything except his permission, many times. 

It was the best heat he’s ever had, his omega needs completely satisfied. He feels - himself. 

Is that how it should feel? He just had wild, passionate sex with his roommate, his “fake” boyfriend - and it feels fine. Wonderful, in fact. 

Robin listens to Chrom’s even breathing for a few moments. 

“Chrom,” Robin whispers, not wanting to wake him but needing an answer to the burning question that started with that kiss, right before his heat.  

“Mmm?” Chrom sounds more asleep than awake, but Robin plunges ahead anyway. 

“What… what are we?”

Chrom’s body tenses beneath him. He starts to shift away, out from beneath Robin. Unthinking, Robin grabs him and holds on, making a little noise of protest. They both stay still for a moment, Chrom mid-move. 

_Don’t leave_ , Robin thinks, but can't say it with his suddenly-dry mouth.  

“I…” Chrom says. He swallows, audibly, and Robin leans back to inspect his friend. Chrom’s eyes are turned away, all alpha shuttered deep inside. He smells upset, and Robin wants to draw out the delicious smells of contentment they had both been putting off, mere moments before. 

“It's okay,” Robin says, attempting to move past the question. At the same time, Chrom blurts, “I love you.” 

Robin slips off Chrom’s shoulder and onto the pillow, but keeps his arm around Chrom’s body. “Really?” 

“I’ve loved you since the middle of our first semester.” Chrom blushes, but meets Robin’s gaze with open, honest eyes. He does, he really _does_ love Robin - and without thinking, Robin moves in and kisses him, just a soft press of lips to Chrom’s. His scent changes, grows more alpha and less upset. When Robin ends the kiss, Chrom’s eyes are closed, and his arm beneath Robin is curled across his back, fingers brushing his bicep. 

“Chrom… would you… be my boyfriend?” 

Chrom’s eyes fly open, and he _smiles_. Robin is caught unaware by that expression, a bit like a puppy who’s been promised a long walk in the park. Robin ducks his face into Chrom’s arm, a surprised laugh bursting out of him.

“Yes,” Chrom whispers, drawing his face close to Robin’s ear and nuzzling into his hair. “Yes, if that’s what you want.” 

“It is.” And there’s no question in Robin’s mind, as things fall into place - this isn’t his omega making the decision. It’s _him_ , wanting Chrom, separate of his omega. 

Robin turns toward that questing mouth, meeting his lips, barely able to kiss him properly through the smile that seems to be burned onto his face. And Chrom rolls him over, onto his back, crawling over him, fierce affection rising off his skin in a sharp but welcome smell. 

Robin groans, and puts a hand to Chrom's chest as his legs slide between his own. “Not yet,” he whimpers, achingly sore and _very_ aware of it. 

Chrom touches his cheek, and rests their foreheads together. “Okay,” he breathes. Robin can’t focus on Chrom’s eyes, this close, but he feels their attention and the love behind them nonetheless. 

“I love you too,” Robin says. 

If Chrom had a tail, it might wag off - his happiness is apparent in every part of him, scent and smile and the joyful laugh he barks out as he captures Robin’s mouth in a kiss once more, as they settle back into the pillows. And Robin is happy too, happy in his boyfriend’s arms, in the aftermath of an unwanted, unwelcome heat that turned out to be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! (Sorry to everyone who was waiting a long time for this chapter... real life sucks. The last two chapters have been drafted but I have to get in a good emotional place to edit/post the rest, and sometimes I just can't get there. Thank you all for waiting if you're still here!)
> 
> Also: I know it seems like Robin's totally okay with being omega now, but his feelings on the matter are more complicated than that - more to come in the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Robin slowly pulls on a fresh shirt and pair of jeans, aware of the strong scent clinging to him. He’s in desperate need of a shower to cleanse the last four days off his skin. But he finds himself strangely reluctant. Let his parents smell him like this - they know all too well what he and Chrom have been up to. 

He turns, and watches Chrom walk toward him, offering up an easy smile. Watching all that skin disappear beneath the fabric isn’t what Robin wants - he longs to stay cuddled in bed with him for at least another day - but they are both hungry. And it’s past time to face Robin's parents. 

He lets Chrom draw him close, nuzzles his face into Chrom’s neck over the set of bite marks, and takes the scent freely offered. His omega is still close to the surface in the aftermath, and it makes him very aware of how much he still wants Chrom’s comfort. 

“I’ll be right with you,” Chrom says, and brushes fingers through the hair over his temple. 

“I know.” It helps, and it doesn’t. Robin's had too much time to remember the way he acted with both parents before his heat, and it makes him uncomfortable. He should have been nicer, shouldn’t have snapped. But Chrom will be there with him for real, and he knows everything. _Almost_ everything. Robin frowns. He hasn’t told Chrom about the company, about that air-conditioned room and that dismissive disapproval. 

He’s not ready to share that yet. 

Chrom sniffs him, and touches his cheek. “It’s going to be alright,” he says, and squeezes Robin tighter. 

“Thanks.” Robin straightens his back and forces a smile. “We may as well go…” He grabs Chrom’s hand and starts to pull him forward but Chrom resists. 

“Wait.” He reaches out and shifts the sweatshirt off his shoulders, then presents it to Robin with a flourish. He’s blushing, faintly, hopeful and open. 

Robin melts, and grabs Chrom’s forearm, tilting in. “Chrom…” 

He lets Chrom help him into the sweatshirt, and then laughs as Chrom flips the hood up over his eyes. Robin is glad of the hood, because his eyes are growing suspiciously watery. He blinks a few times to clear them, and then brings one cuff to his nose. It’s faint, but there’s Chrom’s scent. He’d wondered - and hoped - that Chrom would offer it again, but he hadn’t wanted to _ask_. 

“How is it?” Chrom leans in to peek beneath the hood. 

“Not as good as the source,” Robin teases, tugging the hood back to smile at his alpha. _His_ alpha. The words ring out in his mind, and he grins wide as Chrom folds him into a hug. 

They separate when Robin’s stomach growls. Chrom puts a hand to it, his eyes growing momentarily hard. 

“Let’s go,” he says, an edge to his voice.

Chrom leads Robin to the door and then out into the hallway. Robin’s parents are doing dishes, for as they walk Robin hears the soft murmur of their voices down the hall, the clink and clatter of bowls and plates. 

Chrom weaves his fingers between Robin’s, and gives him a reassuring smile. 

His mom drops the casserole dish into the sink with a splash of suds, and rushes for Robin as soon as he scuffs his foot on the tiled floor. She hugs him, and he lets go of Chrom’s hand and hugs her back. From her, he only smells radiating love and support, tinged with contained worry, and it relaxes him to know she’s not mad with him. 

She sniffs him, but he can’t tell her reaction from her scent. 

“My baby,” she breathes, and steps back, cupping his face in her still-wet hands. “Are you alright?” 

“A bit hungry,” he says. 

A light springs into her eyes and she turns from him in a fervor. Validar steps out of her way as she fills a plate. Robin glances at Chrom apologetically when she whisks Robin to the kitchen table and sets the overly-full plate before him, then bustles off to get a glass of orange juice. Chrom follows, amused, and Robin is suddenly aware of how tired the alpha looks, the darkness under his eyes. 

A sharp twinge rushes through Robin. 

“Eat,” Chrom says, a light order in his tone. “You need to recover your strength.” 

So Robin does. He relaxes into the meal when his dad hands Chrom a plate. For a few minutes, the only sounds are those of him and Chrom breaking their fast, the scrape of utensils on plates and the crunch of toast. 

Finally, Robin sits back, and puts his fork down. It had been a pile of food, but he’d been _starving_. 

“More?” his mom asks, reaching for his plate. 

Robin smiles, and waves it off. “I’m good, thanks.” He curls his hands around his cup of coffee and draws it in close, hunkering down into the sweatshirt. 

“I’ll take some more casserole,” Chrom says, and offers his own empty plate. Katarina regards him with an almost antagonistic expression. 

“Mom,” Robin says. Deliberately, he reaches over and takes Chrom’s hand. It feels awkward and strange, but the way Chrom’s hand tightens on his fingers, he knows the affection isn’t just for show, not anymore. “He took very good care of me. Be nice.” 

She blinks at him, and then smiles. “I’m sorry, Robbie. You know I worry about you.” 

Robin sighs. “I know.” 

She goes to refill Chrom’s plate. 

Robin meets his father’s eyes across the table, and resists a shudder. There’s no disapproval in his father’s calm expression, but he feels it within himself, anyway. “I’m - sorry,” he blurts out. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I think - it was the heat, I didn’t know it was coming on...” 

Validar’s eyes lighten, and he relaxes back. “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I’m sorry, as well. I’m just glad you’re alright.” 

“I’ll - I’ll have regular heats, now. Every six months, like I should. You were right, I shouldn’t let it go so long.” Robin glances at Chrom, who smiles at him encouragingly. He flushes, remembering the way Chrom deftly brought him through his heat, made him _adore_ it. With Chrom, it was pleasurable, not something to suffer through. 

Katarina’s arms fold around him unexpectedly. “And you’re always welcome to come home and have them here. We’ll take good care of you.” 

Robin gently pushes his mother off, with a low, “ _Mom_...” He and Chrom haven’t discussed _this_ , haven’t talked through any logistics. Being boyfriends is a new thing, a chance neither of them have processed yet  He’s always had his heats at home, but that doesn’t mean he’ll continue to do so. Chrom looks at him with tired, pleased eyes, the tilt of a smile on his lips. They have plenty of time to discuss, to decide - together. Chrom isn't going to tell Robin what to do. 

Validar takes Chrom’s full plate from where Katarina left it on the counter and passes it over. Then he draws Robin’s mom away, guiding her into her seat to grant Robin some much-needed space. 

Where before college, after his heats, he wouldn’t mind sitting beside his mother’s comforting alpha presence on the couch, quietly reading together, now he finds he’d rather spend this time with Chrom. This is a normal omega thing to do, and he’d always thought it was too clingy. But it doesn’t feel clingy now. He wants nothing more than Chrom’s arms around him. 

And it doesn’t make him weak, for wanting it. Instead, he feels stronger. Perhaps - all of the things he’d been fighting within himself, all those omega tendencies, are not negative traits at all. When he thinks about the company's directors, glaring at him with contempt, declaring him _unfit_ because of his omega nature, he only feels an angry determination to prove them all wrong. 

He remembers his father’s words as if from a lifetime ago - _You’re still you - the best, brightest son a father could ever ask for_. He believes that, believes in Robin. 

As Chrom wolfs down his food, a delicate silence falls over the table. His dad is studying the market section’s daily news, and his mom sections out an orange. Robin leans on his elbow and watches his roommate - now, his boyfriend - finish eating. He feels at peace, in a way that he hasn’t in a long time. 

Chrom sits back with a click of utensils. He smiles at Robin, and tilts his head, and their hands find each other beneath the tablecloth. 

“Go on,” Robin’s mom says. “You two look about ready to collapse on the table - and it reeks of young love. I’ll have dinner ready for you at the usual time.” 

Robin blushes, and Chrom squeezes his hand tighter. He doesn’t resist when Chrom draws him up, pulling him close. “Thanks,” Robin says, glancing at his parents. “For everything, I mean.” 

Katarina starts to rise from the table, but stops at Validar’s hand on her plump arm. “Of course, Robbie,” she says instead, and reaches for a napkin to dab at her eyes. 

Robin tugs on Chrom’s hand, drawing him away from the table. Normally, he would help clean up, but he’s finally realizing how tired Chrom looks. Did he get any sleep during the heat? It doesn’t look it. He sways a bit, and lets Robin lead him off. 

Robin pauses just inside the bedroom door and slides an arm around Chrom's torso. “Should we shower first?” 

Chrom hugs him back, pressing him against the door, closing it fully with their combined weights. “I just want to sleep for a while. And… I like that you smell like this…” He shifts his face into Robin’s hair, breathing in. 

Robin shivers, and moves his body against Chrom’s. He doesn’t feel any stirring in Chrom’s pants, nor in his own - they are both thoroughly exhausted. But it doesn't mean he can't enjoy the closeness. 

Robin guides Chrom to the bed and slips in beside him, cuddling up beneath his chin. The room will need airing out - it smells of stale heat and sex. But here, with Chrom by his side, he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with the scent. 

Chrom pulls and shifts Robin into position, until he’s resting up against Chrom’s side, as close as they can get. Then Chrom sighs. “Good,” he says, sounding mostly asleep. His fingers run through Robin’s hair slowly, drifting down to his shoulder. “Stay right here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Robin promises. He glances up to watch Chrom’s face in the late-morning light coming through the window. He watches as _his_ alpha - a little shiver of contentment runs through him at that thought - relaxes into sleep, his face going soft. Robin ducks his face into Chrom’s shoulder to contain the happiness that threatens to burst from him. 

And then he closes his eyes, determined to sleep as well.


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Two months later…_

 

Robin shifts against the soft leather seat, and only settles when Chrom takes his hand, balancing it on the shifter. They should both be back at school, prepping for finals. He’d even told Chrom to stay behind, but Chrom had refused. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me,” he’d said. 

The Plegian summer sun beats down on the car, and Chrom’s a/c is working overtime. The sweat dries on Robin’s forehead. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Chrom says, and leans in to press a soft kiss to Robin’s temple. 

Robin sucks in a breath, and fidgets with his tie. Chrom stills his hands. “Hey,” he whispers. “No matter what happens in there… you’ll be fine. You’re still the best person to take over the company someday.” 

Robin’s father had called him three days prior. “Are you willing to come down and speak with the board of directors again?” he’d asked, and Robin would have given anything to see the pride he heard in his father’s voice. “I believe I’ve talked them around, but they want to see you before they make a decision.” 

Robin had been uncertain, but the offer was more than he’d ever hoped for. And Validar doesn’t  usually overreact. He wouldn’t ask Robin to come back unless he was sure. 

But Robin remembered, all too well, the last time he’d stood before the directors. He’d told Chrom about that terrible interview, shortly after his heat, and had been gratified by Chrom’s anger and fury on his behalf. There was no pity in Chrom for that situation, only the unshaken belief that Robin would be the best CEO they’d ever had. Robin hadn’t even minded that Chrom was essentially belittling his father, for his boyfriend’s steadfast faith in him, despite his omega presentation - _because_ he was omega. Chrom had even gone so far as to point out Robin’s omega _strengths_ \- how he was good at mediation - his even, pleasant demeanor - even his focused determination. Chrom made him feel like he _could_ run Levin Enterprises. 

So here he is, in the parking lot, sweaty and worried and hopeful, even as it hurts. 

“This will be different.” And Chrom smiles at him, leaning in until Robin can’t help but smile back. 

“Thanks,” Robin says, and closes his eyes, and tries to stay positive. 

~*~ 

Chrom waits in the hot car for what feels like an hour. At first, he'd curled up in the front seat with a textbook, but after reading the same paragraph five times, he set it aside and pulled out the latest game on his phone.

He hadn't expected it to take this long. In fact, he is just about to leave the car to harass a receptionist into leading him to where Robin is, barging in there and bashing some hard alpha heads together until they see reason, when he spots Robin walking across the parking lot. A hand shades his eyes against the brilliant sunlight, moving toward the car. Chrom can't tell his reaction, can't identify a happy stride or a slump to his motion, can’t read his eyes. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and waits until Robin closes the door and sinks back into the seat, eyes closed. 

“Well?” Chrom asks, breathless. 

Robin sighs, and looks at him, and smiles. Chrom grins and lets out a whoop, then grabs Robin's hand. Their fingers twine together, easily, like they are meant to fit. “We… we did it,” Robin says. “Dad got rid of the worst of them, and the rest… I convinced them of my vision for the company. They _listened_ to me, Chrom. Some of them had their doubts, but I think… I think I'll get my chance. I've got a position on the board waiting for me when I graduate.” 

He smells happy, pleased. Chrom leans in and kisses Robin on the cheek, and then scents his hair, just a quick whiff of that rose-tinted scent. “I'm so glad,” he says. 

When he pulls away, Robin is brushing beneath his eyes, blinking furiously. 

“Oh, come here,” Chrom says, and hugs him tight. Robin hooks his chin over his shoulder and grips him close, and sniffles his way through some self-deprecating comment. “I'm so proud, Robin… you did it.” 

Robin smiles. “I did…” 

Chrom shifts back. “A seat on the board, you said?” 

Robin blinks at him, a tinge of unhappiness moving through his scent, and Chrom suspects the same thought is crossing his mind. “Yeah, it's…” 

Chrom interrupts him. “We’ll want to look for apartments here in Ruah Parish after we graduate. We can stay with your parents while we get situated...” 

Robin's mouth falls open, and for a moment he can’t speak. “You would… come live here with me?” 

Chrom closes his mouth with a gentle finger under his chin. “Of course, Robin. This is a big deal for you. I'd never ask you to stay in Ylisse, not with this opportunity.” 

“Chrom…” Robin's eyes are growing watery again, and he covers his mouth. 

“Maybe I can work with you,” Chrom continues, his mind leaping ahead. Over brunch last week, Emm mentioned wanting to open another hospital over the border in Plegia - and Chrom knows that Robin chose Ylisse University because of Ylisse’s gender equality laws. If he could use Emm’s connections to get on some committees... “Or - maybe I can work with Emm to finally expand into Plegia. Whatever, I really don't mind. I know how important this is to you, and... we'll figure it out.” 

Robin throws his arms around Chrom's neck. “Thank you,” he says, muffled against his skin. 

“I love you,” Chrom says, holding him close.

“I love you too.” Robin regards him with a soft look, and Chrom could melt into it, into that almost-smile, that passion. 

Finally, Chrom asks, “Ready to head back? We've got a lot of studying to do.” 

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, and slips back into his seat. “Do you want to stop for burgers on the way? I know a place near here.” 

Chrom smiles. Robin had been too nervous to eat before, and Chrom hadn’t wanted to force him. “Yes, I’m starving.” 

“When aren’t you?” Robin laughs, and pokes at Chrom’s stomach. 

Chrom doesn’t know exactly what their future in Plegia will bring, but if he gets to watch Robin’s face light up like this, feel his fingers wrap soft and warm around his own, then it’ll be good. He’s sure of it. 

Chrom smiles at Robin for another moment, then puts the car in reverse. 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhhh it's DONE! Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and kudos-ing, I'm so glad I could share this story with you all! (Thank you especially to Kristin for listening to me talk about how it's not PERFECT, and believing in it when I doubted!) I hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> After the story: I'm imagining it takes Robin a couple of years, but he eventually comes around to having kids with Chrom (and gives Katarina the grandbabies she desperately wants). After they become mates, Chrom and Robin enact Plegian secondary gender reform. And of course, Robin makes CEO eventually!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic while I was stressed off my GOURD studying for my test, so it's a lot fluffier than my usual fare... I've got the first draft complete so I'm HOPING the chapters will edit fairly fast, so you can expect some fairly regular updates. (Right now it includes 6 chapters and an epilogue, and the first chapter is the longest.) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Special shout-out to Kristin who indulged me terribly, and a big thank-you to Kristin and Mio, who put up with my frantic crying for months about the exam.


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